Make You Feel Pure
by Miss.Elliot
Summary: When Blaine's best friend, Sebastian, drags him to a strip club he ends up getting a lot more than he bargained for. Fill for the GKM.
1. Chapter 1

**I've been suffering a serious case of writers block lately, so in order to get my groove back I started to fill a prompt over on the GKM. And here it is for you.**

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><p>Blaine looked down at the I.D shaking slightly between his fingers. He could hear the thudding bass of the club reverberating through the walls and out onto the street. A few men in business suits passed him, looking both ways before entering the front entrance, clearly not wanting to be seen.<p>

'I don't know about this…' Blaine started.

'Come on, Blaine.' His best friend, Sebastian, grinned and clapped him on the back. 'I know you're a blushing virgin, but that doesn't mean we can't enjoy a show now, does it?'

'It doesn't even look like me.' Blaine mumbled, tilting the card, in an attempt to catch the light of the neon sign shining from above the door of the strip club Sebastian had all but forced him to.

'I paid a lot of money for that, and it took me a lot of effort. So stop complaining and enjoy your birthday present.'

Before he knew it Sebastian was dragging him towards the bouncer, handing over his own fake driver's license. They had been living in New York for almost a year now, both having graduated Dalton and gained acceptance to NYU. Blaine's parents had insisted on him moving into their apartment, stating no son of theirs would stay in a dorm, even if it were a single. Sebastian technically lived on campus, his parents, while just as wealthy as the Andersons, held no such reservations for dorm rooms. His father believed it would be "grounding" for his son to experience life without every privilege his parents so often handed him. However he spent most of his time in Blaine's spare bedroom, much to the delight of his roommate.

The bouncer looked expectantly at Blaine, who jolted slightly and extended a shaky hand. The large man barely looked at the plastic card before handing it over and nodding.

Blaine blinked as his eyes adjusted to the dim lights of the club. The stage was lit up blue, spotlights roaming, occasionally catching on the half-naked man who appeared to be covered in glitter and upside down on the pole at center stage.

As he took in the sights Blaine was sure his swallow would have been audible if not for the loud music with a bass so heavy he could feel the vibrations in his chest. He could feel his shoes sticking to the floor with every step, the residue of thousands of spilt drinks. There were tables surrounding the stage, groups of men all angled to get the best view of the stage. The particularly eager ones were sitting at the bench that wrapped its way around the stage, reaching up to offer their singles and gain a second of the dancer's attention.

Sebastian headed straight to the bar with a confidence that only came from practice. He ordered two beers, handing one to Blaine.

'Happy Birthday, man!' He all but shouted as he tapped the neck of his bottle to Blaine's. Blaine smiled and took a rather large swig from his drink. He was going to need a little bit of liquid courage, something about the look in Sebastian's eye told him so.

They stood at the bar for a few moments, watching the current performer, who seemed to enjoy winking at his audience, before Sebastian put his beer back down on the bar top.

'I'll be right back. I just have to go find the rest of your birthday present.'

'What-' But before Blaine could get another word out he had disappeared into the dim of the club.

Blaine leant back against the bar, having ordered another drink, and attempted to enjoy the show. He could understand the appeal. The men were attractive, muscles rippling under tanned skin. And there was the way they moved, hips gyrating, twisting around sleek metal poles. He could see how people got off on this. But he couldn't push away the thought that these people, these men, were being paid. And that simple thought forced any possible arousal from him mind (or other areas).

He was singing quietly along to the current song blaring through the speakers when Sebastian reappeared in front on him. He was wearing a mischievous grin that Blaine had come to distrust.

'Come on.' He grabbed Blaine's hand and pulled him through the crowd.

'Seb, what's going on?'

Sebastian stopped them in front of a black velvet curtain that hung from the ceiling to the floor in the back corner of the club. Glitter seemed to have become embedded into the fabric over the years and now shimmered in the lights coming from the stage. A large man, dressed all in black, clearly security, stood in front of the gap in the curtain. Blaine may not have been to a strip club before but he knew what this meant.

'Oh, no.'

'Yes.' Sebastian pushed him lightly.

'I am not going in there.' He tried to keep the panic from his voice as he fought Seb's direction.

'I bought you a private dance for your birthday. Now you will say thank you and go in there and let the young man dance for you.'

'Sebastian, I really-'

'Blaine Anderson.' Sebastian looked over his head and smiled at the bouncer who nodded, they never seemed to actually use words, and pulled the curtain aside slightly. It only took a small shoved and Blaine was stumbling through.

There was a small stage in the center of the room, only about a quarter of the size of the main stage, with a gold pole situated right in its middle. There was a soft purple glow, but other than that very little light, making it very difficult for Blaine to see much of anything. A plush chair had been set up directly in front of the stage.

He sat down with a sigh, resigning himself to his fate. As he waited he shifted in his seat, unsure exactly how to position himself. He settled on knees slightly parted, hands resting on thighs, heart racing.

Just as he was about to stand and leave, sure this was some joke Sebastian had played to rile him up, a heavy bass began to pour from the speakers.

A young man stepped out onto the stage. Boy, Blaine corrected to himself, because he was closer to his own age, younger, if that was even possible. He was unlike any of the other performers Blaine had witnessed that night. Pale and lithe, toned muscles hinted from under his clothes.

He was dressed quite modestly, considering some of the other costumes worn by the dancers on the main stage. His pants were leather, skin tight, shaping his ass perfectly. They were tucked into knee high lace-up boots that made Blaine want to unlace them very slowly just to discover what was underneath. His shirt was light cotton, rolled up at the sleeves. The white was ever so slightly see-through, unbuttoned enough to reveal just a tease of his chest. A scarf was tied around his neck, giving him a hint of coyness. There was not a single speck of glitter on him and his hair was styled perfectly.

He was stunning.

He started his dance without casting a single glance in Blaine's direction. Striding out onto the stage with long steps, hips swaying as he went. He gripped the pole firmly with long fingers and hoisted himself up, spinning, flashing Blaine a brief but oh so wonderful view of his leather clad ass.

When his feet planted back on the ground he pressed his lower half to the pole, hands still gripping it tight, and bent back, stretching out, showing off all the muscles in his arms and neck, the flexibility of his back. He rolled his torso back up the pole finally, _finally, _looking at Blaine when he pressed his cheek to the metal.

Blaine swallowed, mouth dry. His fingers were digging into the tops of his thighs but he didn't even realize as he continued to hold the intense gaze coming from those striking blue eyes. He shifted a little as his pants started to tighten around his crotch.

The dancer let go of the pole and strutted down off the stage, hips swinging in that delicious way as he did so. He stopped just short of Blaine and begun, oh so slowly, to unbutton his shirt. As he did so he continued to sway his hips, rolling them slightly as he moved in time with the music. Never once did he break eye contact.

Blaine licked his lips. He wanted nothing more than to reach out at touch, to feel that pale skin beneath him fingers, to feel the muscles quiver and flex. But something told him that wasn't allowed, at least not until the boy made his move.

When he reached the last button the young man stop moving his hips and slowly made the three paces to Blaine's knees. He pushed them apart with his own, standing between Blaine's thighs and turning around so his lower back was at Blaine's eye level. Then he moved and the shirt feel from his back, sliding between Blaine's thighs down to the floor.

He raised his arms above his head, muscles in his shoulders flexing and began to dance again, seemingly lost in the music. There was nothing tacky about the dance, it was nothing like Blaine had been expecting. It was slow, sensual, teasing. It was turning Blaine on like nothing else.

The boy turned around suddenly, bent down, placing both hands on Blaine's knees. He squeezed once before pushing his legs together, shimming forward slightly and sitting down with a roll of his hips.

Blaine bit back a groan as the boy rested his weight in his lap. He had been half hard since he had first caught a glimpse of that ass through leather but now he could feel the heat of him on his lap all hope was gone. He felt slightly ashamed at his arousal. But, paid or not, this boy was beautiful. So far this had been one of Sebastian's better birthday presents.

Blaine closed his eyes as the boy snaked his arms around his neck and rolled his hips again in time to the music. There was a hot breath in his ear and then a voice, clearly speaking in its lower register but still higher pitched than Blaine's own. It sounded like silk amongst the heavy bass of the music.

'Having fun?'

He leant back to gain Blaine's reaction, pressing harder into his lap as he did so. Blaine could only nod in response.

'May I ask, what's your name?' He purred into Blaine's ear.

'B-Blaine.' He stammered.

'Well, Blaine, it's very nice to meet you. For tonight you can call me Porcelain.' If Blaine had been older, wiser, more confident, maybe if he had simply had more to drink he would have asked the question that flashed in his mind; _what about tomorrow?_

And with that Porcelain threw his head back, arching like he had against the pole, only this time his lower half was pressed against Blaine, who wanted to latch onto his exposed throat and mark him as his own. He settled instead for resting his hands on his hips, feeling the move beneath his fingertips as he continued to grind into Blaine's lap. His fingertips dug in slightly, making sure this was real, this boy was not simple a specter of his imagination.

Then all of a sudden, much too soon if you asked Blaine, the weight was gone from his lap and he was watching Porcelain make his way back up onto the stage. With the warmth gone from his lap Blaine finds his hand drifting down to the inner seam of his jeans. He so badly wanted to palm the bulge that's obvious through his pants. His cock had been so hard for so long now it was starting to turn painful. But of course he couldn't t touch himself, not in front of Porcelain. He had some dignity after all.

The boy was now circling the pole, slowly rolling his hips as he moved around. His hands move from the pole down to the wait of his pants. He stick his thumb in, moving it side to side a few times before slowly working at his button.

Blaine thought he was going to pass out. Suddenly the darkness and the heat of the room were getting to him. This wasn't him. He was still a virgin for fucks sake. And now this beautiful young man, because from what he had shown Blaine he truly was a man, was about to take his pants off for him.

Then Porcelain laughed, removed his hand from his fly and kissed his palm. He blew the kiss to Blaine as the final notes of the song faded out and strutted back of the stage the way he came.

Blaine could do nothing but sit there and breathe.

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><p>Kurt fixed his hair in the dusty mirror of the crowded dressing room. If there was one thing he hated about working the pole it was the hideous things it did to his hair. He loved performing, and to some extent he loved the attention that this certain type of performing attracted. It wasn't, and never would be, Broadway and it did awful things to his hair but, it paid the bills, and at the moment that was all Kurt had time to care about.<p>

He felt a hand on his shoulder. Without looking away from his reflecting he sighed, 'No Andy, I do not have any body glitter for you to borrow.'

'Well it's a good thing I'm not Andy then.'

Kurt's eyes flicked over his shoulder in the mirror at the unfamiliar voice. Upon seeing the face he quickly stood up, turning as he did so. He almost took the young man out from the force of his chair moving back.

'You can't be back here,' he hissed. One glance and Kurt could tell he was loaded. Everything from the dark skinny jeans, to the button up shirt and genuine leather shoes screamed wealth. The strongest indication however was the boy's face. It oozed a confidence that only came from never knowing what it felt like to be hungry, to have to buy second hand designer clothes, knowing you could buy the person in front of you three times over.

Kurt recognized the guy. He had just bought a dance for his friend, the cute, innocent, insanely attractive friend. The exact kind of guy Kurt would pine after in real life, if he had one. He had paid well, including a generous tip. He didn't just flaunt his wealth with his wardrobe but with his spending, too.

'I have a proposition for you.'

Kurt had heard those words before and they made his heart sink and his stomach churn. A proposition was always a double-edged sword. Kurt had only ever agreed to them when he was particularly desperate, when his hot water had been turned off or when he had only eaten potatoes all week. They always paid well, he made sure of that. But they always made him feel dirty in a way that was impossible to clean; a spot so deep down it was impossible to get to with soap or hot water or fresh food or survival.

So Kurt simply arched an eyebrow, slipped into his stage persona and pretended to be aloof.

'You see my friend Blaine has this little problem. It's his birthday today and I was hoping to get that sorted out for him.' The man, Sebastian, Kurt remembered from his credit card, smirked.

'Oh?'

'Yes. I was hoping that tonight you could make my little Blaine a man, if you know what I mean.' He finished the sentence with a wink and Kurt thought he was going to throw up.

Kurt had been paid to perform sexual acts before, but he had a limit. He had given blowjobs before, or more accurately, allowed his mouth to be fucked. But he had been starving and desperate and he never, ever considered going _that_ far. Kurt took a moment to regain his composure before speaking again.

'I may be a stripper, but I'm not a prostitute.' He said coldly.

'No?' Sebastian raised an eyebrow. 'I just thought, maybe this could help?' He handed Kurt a piece of paper with a number on it.

Kurt almost fainted at the sight if the number, all traces of his persona slipped away. The number would feed him for a year. The number would keep him in his apartment. The number would finally, _finally_, pay his father's hospital and funeral bills. The number would change Kurt's life.

He swallowed and looked back up at Sebastian, who seemed proud of himself. Could he really do this? Could he sell himself for a chance to reclaim his life? After staring at the digits on the page for what seemed like an eternity he nodded slowly.

Sebastian grinned and pressed a thick wad of bills into Kurt's shaking hand. Without a single word he turned on his heel and left a shocked Kurt in his wake.

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><p>'Good news.'<p>

Blaine shook his head to clear his thoughts. _Undulating hips, pale skin, blue eyes, sweet kisses, coffee dates._ Sebastian was back, pulling Blaine from the bar where he had managed to stumble after his dance, wearing a smug grin that always meant trouble. Usually for Blaine.

'What's so good about it?' Blaine narrowed his eyes.

'Well tonight, I have arranged for you to become a man.' Sometimes Blaine thought Sebastian looked like a meercat, especially when he was scheming.

'What do you mean?' And then it clicked. 'Are you kidding me right now Sebastian? You hired me a prostitute?' Sebastian was now dragging Blaine behind another heavy velvet curtain, however this one revealed a completely different area than the last.

The long rectangular room was lined with dressing tables covered in all types of make-up, body glitters and empty cans of spray tan. The mirrors were all bordered in lights, giving the room a bright yellow glow. There were a few men dressing themselves, fixing their hair in the mirrors, preparing for their upcoming performances.

Sebastian led him further into the room, stopping suddenly when they were just past half way. Blaine almost ran into him, not having noticed the sudden halt due to the distractions of the various sights and sounds of the room. He had been in plays before, he understood backstage, but this was something else.

And then he saw the reason they had stopped. He was still wearing the leather pants, leaning against the chair at his dressing table, hip cocked. He had changed his shirt. Again it was simple, pale blue, light cotton, but there was a series of complicated looking buckles adorning the shoulders. His arms were folded across chest, waiting. He looked Blaine up and down, who suddenly felt very vulnerable under his gaze.

'Sebastian no! I can't- I'm not-' Blaine couldn't think. Sebastian had hired Porcelain. To have sex with him. This was not real life. This was not happening to him.

Blaine was bad at romance, hence him still being a virgin at nineteen, but that didn't mean he didn't like it. He had always wanted to sweep a boy off his feet, to buy roses, go on dinner dates. But he had never found the right boy, and now here he was.

'Come on, Blaine. You have an attractive young man, who is very willing-'

'Because you paid him.' Blaine hissed through his teeth, low enough for only Seb to hear.

'Problem?' Porcelain purred. Blaine swallowed at the sound of his voice, mouth suddenly very dry.

'No, no. It's- um- just-'

'Blaine is a virgin.'

'Seb!' Blaine couldn't believe this guy was actually his best friend.

Porcelain clicked his tongue and took a step forward, placing a hand on Blaine's bicep. 'Aw, honey, there's no need to worry. Just let me take care of you, huh?'

Blaine closed his eyes. Maybe this was his only choice. He was young, attractive and fairly wealthy. But he had never had a real boyfriend, only a couple of dates with an English major and an awkward misunderstanding with a junior manager at the Gap. Maybe there was something wrong with him? Maybe the only way he could ever have someone's affections was to buy them.

He nodded slowly.

'Excellent!' Sebastian clapped his hands together. 'Well, Blaine, I think I may spend the night in the dorms. As proud of you as I am, I do not want to hear you loosing your virginity.'

Blaine groaned and buried his head in his hands. When he reappeared Sebastian was gone, leaving him alone with Porcelain once again.

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><p><strong>The song Kurt dances to is Undisclosed Desires by Muse. Coincidentally the title also comes from this song. I hope you enjoyed, let me know what you think. Love.<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**It was really interesting reading the reactions of people who hadn't read the prompt on the GKM (you can find it here: http:/glee-kink-meme[dot]livejournal[dot]?thread=27519979#t27519979) as opposed to those who had because of the spoilers the prompt contains. I'm extra interested to see the reaction those people have with this chapter. So please, please leave a review. **

**This chapter contains smutty smut. So our innocent viewers beware. **

**As always thanks for reading and the wonderful reviews. Now getting reading. **

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><p>The cab ride was awkward to say the least. Neither said a word for the entire journey, only occasionally sneaking glances at each other. The few times they caught each other's eye they would blush and look away.<p>

Blaine had no idea how one went about these things. He wondered what Porcelain would expect from him. Would he just do his bit and leave? He shuddered at the thought.

The cab pulled up outside of Blaine's apartment building. Blaine paid the man and quickly rushed over to open Porcelain's door for him. Of course he was already halfway out of the cab before Blaine made it. Nonetheless Blaine held out his hand to him, receiving a shocked glance in return that was quickly hidden by a coy smile.

'Why, thank you.'

They didn't talk all the way up to Blaine's apartment. It left Blaine with too much time to think. He thought about how many times Porcelain had done this before, how many men had touched his beautiful skin. Whether Blaine would disappoint him, would not be good enough for him. It's not as though he had the practice, after all.

With shaking hands he unlocked the door to his apartment, letting the both of them in. He dumped his keys and wallet on the small table in the entranceway and turned to face the stunning man now standing in his hallway.

'So.'

Porcelain took two steps forward, closing the gap between them. He placed both his hand on Blaine's face, pausing for a moment as though asking permission. When Blaine didn't protest he leaned forward and pressed their lips together.

He moved slowly, softly, there was no passion or heat behind it, it was more comfort than anything else. When Blaine recovered from his initial shock –_Oh my god, we're kissing_- he began to move in return. Porcelain's lips were so soft against his own. He opened his mouth slightly allowing the other boy to mimic the move, opening up further. His tongue licked into Blaine's mouth, pressing against Blaine's tongue, tasting him, feeling him.

Blaine's hands gripped his hips, pulling him closer so their chests were pressed together. He swirled his tongue around Porcelain's, feeling him press their bodies closer together in response.

Just as the kiss was becoming heated Porcelain pulled away, teeth catching on Blaine's bottom lip as he did so.

'Bedroom?' Blaine's breath came out heavy, chest rising and falling as he nodded.

Blaine grabbed Porcelain's hand and led him to his bedroom, unsure exactly what he was meant to do once he got there. He turned on the lamp on his nightstand, casting just enough light into the room that Blaine wouldn't make a fool of himself by tripping over a loose sock or something. Porcelain noticed his obvious nervousness, placing both hands on Blaine's shoulders he gently pushed him towards the bed until his knees hit the end and he sat down.

Taking a step back Porcelain gave him a smoldering look as he slowly began to work at the buttons of his shirt.

'No. Stop.' Blaine couldn't watch him do that. It reminded him too much of the dance earlier in the night, that he was being paid to do this, that it wasn't an act of love, but rather money. And Blaine couldn't bare that.

Porcelain looked shocked and a little hurt. Blaine stood, hating that he gave the boy any ideas other than that he wanted him. Because he did. He was beautiful and there was something so intriguing about his presence. But having him perform for Blaine in his own bedroom was not how he wanted this to go.

Blaine raised a hand to cup his cheek, slowly tilting his head forward to kiss the taller boy. Much like the first kiss, it was a comforting gesture, this time Blaine letting Porcelain know that it was okay, he was safe, Blaine wasn't going to hurt him. Blaine felt two hands rise and rest on his chest, he sighed softly before pulling away.

'What's your name?' Blaine felt Porcelain tense beneath his hand. He had known before asking that the boy would not give up this information easily. He knew that the persona he gave was a hard outer shell protecting him from the outside world. He knew to get under that shell he would have to break him. But he had to know. There was no way he could continue, to give his everything to a stage name.

'I- I know its not something you give out to strangers. I know there is a reason for your stage name but please, I have to know.'

He looked at Blaine, studying his face with those blue eyes of a thousand different colors, before breathing out, barely above a whisper, 'Kurt.'

'Kurt.' Blaine rolled the name on his tongue, liking the sound of it. He could see himself saying that name in a thousand ways.

He slid his arms around Kurt's neck, kissing him once again. However this time was not soft. He opened his mouth almost immediately, licking at Kurt's lips. Their tongues fought for dominance, pressing and swirling and tasting. Blaine felt Kurt's hands move from his chest to wrap around his waist, pulling their bodies flush. Blaine groaned at the contact.

He pulled away from Kurt, who whined a little at the loss, his lips chasing Blaine's just slightly, moving to kiss along his jaw. He could taste the saltiness of sweat as he continued down Kurt's neck, sucking lightly on his pulse point. Kurt moaned under the attention, hands slipping down to Blaine's ass, gripping him tighter.

Blaine let his arms untangled themselves from Kurt's neck, hands trailing down his shoulders and chest until they reached the stop where Kurt had stopped unbuttoning his shirt. With deft fingers he started where the boy had finished, leaving a trail of wet kisses in his wake. When he got to the waistband of the leather pants he pulled the shirt out and off Kurt's shoulders.

In the dim light coming from the single lamp Blaine took a moment to appreciate the plane of pale flesh in front of him, pulled taught over muscles that were just defined enough to perfectly accentuate the lithe frame they clung to. He had a dancer's body, a small part of Blaine's mind wondered just how flexible he was.

'So beautiful,' he muttered before leaning forwards again, the need to taste overwhelming him. Kurt gasped, whether from the words or the way Blaine licked at his nipple, Blaine didn't have the mind to think about. He hadn't even realized Kurt had been undressing him until he felt his own shirt fall from his body. He straightened up to allow it to drop from his arms.

This time it was Kurt who lunged forward. Blaine shivered as he kissed and nipped his way down his chest, dropping to his knees as he reached Blaine's belly button. Kurt looked up at him as his finger's worked at Blaine's belt, pupils blown so wide he could barely see a ring of the striking blue.

Blaine gasped as his zipper was pulled down, the sensation too rough even through the fabric of his boxers. Kurt hooked his fingers into the waistband of Blaine's jeans, pulling them and his boxers down in one go.

Blaine heard a small gasp and immediately wanted to cover himself up. He had been told once, during his first and only hand job, that he was bigger than average. But that is little confidence when there is a very attractive man, on his knees, eye to eye with your cock. Before Blaine had too much time to over analyze the situation, Kurt took him in one hand to steady himself and wrapped his lips around Blaine's head.

This time it was Blaine's turn to gasp, which quickly turned into a moan. His knees turned to jelly and he had to fight to keep himself standing as Kurt began to suck lightly. Suddenly he sunk down further, taking in most of Blaine's length, his hand covering what he couldn't quite reach. Blaine moaned again, his hands gripping Kurt's hair simply to keep himself grounded. All he could think of was tight, wet heat as Kurt hollowed his cheeks and continued to suck.

Blaine let himself get lost in the sensation and the little sounds Kurt was making, each one sending another spike of pleasure coursing through him. Before long he felt a warmth spreading through his thighs and stomach, coiling round the base of his spin.

'Fuck,' He groaned. Kurt seemed to like the swearing because he hummed loudly around Blaine.

'Shit, no, wait.' He pulled at Kurt's hair, who released him with a faintly disappointed look. 'Too- too close.' He managed to pant out.

Kurt smiled up at him, lips bright red, a perfect flush across his cheeks. Blaine ran his hand through his hair, breath catching in his throat a little.

'So beautiful,' he repeated. Kurt's blush darkened and he dipped his head, breaking eye contact.

Unable to take it any longer Blaine dragged Kurt to his feet and kissed him again. All tenderness of the previous moment gone, replaced with a needy passion. Blaine's fingers fumbled with Kurt's fly as he stepped out of his own jeans, kicking off his shoes as he did so.

When they were both finally naked, Blaine continued to kiss Kurt, walking them back towards the bed as he did so. Kurt's knees hit the edge and he tumbled backwards, Blaine almost falling with him. Kurt shuffled back up the bed to lean against the pillows.

Blaine watched him as he did so, naked and spread out on his bed, hard, flushed cock leaking pre come on his stomach. He had dreamed of this moment many times, but it had never come anywhere near the actual reality, the boy in his bed far surpassed his faceless fantasies.

He crawled onto the bed, grabbing Kurt's ankle and kissing his instep. Kurt looked nervous, all of the night's previous confidence washed away.

'What are you doing?'

'You have no idea, do you?' Blaine kissed slowly up his calf, occasionally stopping to lick or bite. 'I know you act so confident, but you have no idea how truly gorgeous you are.' He slowly licked the inside of Kurt's thigh.

'B- Blaine.'

'Fuck, Kurt. Even the sounds you make.' He nipped at the crease of Kurt's thigh, soothing the sting with his tongue.

He kissed his way across the sensitive skin under his navel, fingers gripping his thighs. There was another whine above him when Kurt's cock dragged across his throat as he made his way to the opposite hip, giving it the same treatment as the one before it.

Slowly, if a little nervously, Blaine lifted his head a little to kiss the tip of Kurt's cock. Kurt let out a chocked noise, his hands gripping at Blaine's hair. He took this as a signal to continue. _Confidence, Anderson._ He sealed his lips around Kurt's cock, taking him as deep as he could. It wasn't as far as Kurt had managed, but he made up for it, swirling and pressing his tongue, hollowing his cheeks and sucking his way back up the length.

It was sloppy and a little messy but before too long Kurt was pulling at his hair too hard, forcing Blaine to release him.

'S-stop. God, Blaine, you need to stop.' Kurt's voice was high and breathy, his chest heaving with each intake of air.

Blaine just hummed and kissed the crease of Kurt's thigh. Breathing in through his nose he could smell him; a combination of sweat and pure musky man. Unable to help himself his tongue flicked out to reach one of Kurt's balls. The man squealed a little above him, obviously not expecting the action. Blaine hadn't been expecting it himself, but suddenly it seemed like the best idea in the world.

He reached his hand under one of Kurt's thigh's, hitching it up onto his shoulder, spreading him wider. Kurt squirmed a little, uncomfortable at being on display in such a way.

Blaine leaned in and licked again, this time at the soft skin just behind Kurt's balls. He pulled back a little to watch, Kurt's entrance, dusty pink, clenched a little under the scrutiny.

'Gorgeous,' he murmured, small puffs of breath tickling at Kurt's skin.

With a wide, flat tongue Blaine pressed against Kurt.

'Blaine!' He all but screamed the name. His hands fisted in the sheets and Blaine explored every inch of skin around his entrance with his tongue.

The taste of Kurt was so strong here. It was not something Blaine had ever expected to enjoy. He had read about it, had even watched it, but he had never quite understood the appeal of rimming. However, as was turning into a theme of the night, the reality was so much better than the idea had ever been.

Hardening his tongue to a point, Blaine pushed into Kurt's entrance, past the first ring of muscles. He could feel Kurt clenching around him as his head thrashed against the pillow. Blaine's cock twitched, desperately hard, wanting the same attention as his tongue was being given.

'Fuuuuck, fuck, Blaine, please.' Kurt whimpered.

Blaine released Kurt's leg from over his shoulder and made his way back up his body. Hovering over him Blaine kissed him. Kurt moaned and Blaine realized he must have been tasting himself on his tongue.

Kurt gasped as they pulled apart, gaze glassy. 'Please, Blaine. I need- I need you. Please, please.'

Blaine silenced him with another searing kiss. 'Shh, I've got you.'

He moved from above Kurt to lean over the side of the bed, reaching into the bottom draw of his nightstand. It's only as he is reached for his lube he realized he didn't have any condoms. Shit. Surely Kurt would have brought some with him, right? He was about to ask when his fingers brushed an unfamiliar cardboard box.

There was a sticky note attached to the side of the box of condoms. _"Use them well. All my love, Seb. xxx"_ Blaine didn't know whether to curse him, or thank him.

Quickly he pulled one out of the box, returning it to the draw and grabbing the bottle of lube. Leaving the silver packet on the bed beside him, he flipped open the cap of the lube. He had only ever done this to himself, and not all that often. He poured a generous amount onto his fingers, probably too much, and rubbed them together to warm the liquid.

Taking a deep breath he settled in between Kurt's legs, leaning down to kiss him as he circled his entrance with a finger. He pushed in slowly, Kurt gasped into his mouth. Blaine paused, allowing him to adjust, before pushing in further.

'Fuck, Kurt.'

Slowly he pushed in and out until Kurt was squirming underneath him. 'M-more. I need more.'

Blaine continued to finger Kurt, scissoring his fingers, stretching him until he was begging and fucking himself onto his three fingers. Blaine kept whispering to Kurt as he worked, small nothings of "beautiful" or "I've got you". He did it partly to reassure Kurt, whom he was sure was more likely to be treated like a toy than a lover by his other clients. Partly it was to reassure himself, to convince him this meant something and was not a simple business transaction.

'I'm ready. Please, Blaine. I'm ready.' Kurt looked at him with steady, needy eyes.

'You sure?' Blaine suddenly felt his heart in his throat. After all this was _he_ ready?

'Yes, please.'

He nodded and reached over to pick up the condom, fumbling a little as he released it from its foil packet. Thinking back to health classes in high school he rolled the condom on his length. He poured a generous amount of lube onto his hand and stroked himself a few times, moaning at the contact on his long neglected cock.

He quickly wiped his hand on the sheets before taking Kurt's and intertwining their fingers next to his head. He leaned down to kiss Kurt, lining himself up as Kurt's ankles crossed on his lower back.

Blaine pulled back from the to look at Kurt, silently asking permission to continue. Kurt nodded just slightly and Blaine took a breath before pushing in just slightly. This was it, this was the moment.

He couldn't hold in his groan as he pushed in past the first ring of muscles. Kurt tensed underneath him, a look of obvious pain on his face and it took all of Blaine's will power to stop.

'Are you okay?' Blaine couldn't help but worry. The last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt Kurt.

'Yeah,' Kurt grit out. 'Just, uh, just give me a sec.'

Blaine did just that, resisting every urge to just slam into the tight heat, before Kurt nodded at him to continue. He stopped twice more before he bottomed out.

'God, Kurt. So tight,' He started to roll his hips just slightly. 'You feel so good.'

'Please, more. I need more. So full, Blaine.'

Blaine pulled out until just the head of his cock was still inside Kurt before pressing back in quickly. He struggled to find a rhythm at first but fell into one soon enough, occasionally shifting his angle to brush against that spot, making the pale boy scream and writhe beneath him.

Blaine hadn't even realized he had his eye closed until he opened them. He slowed down just slightly, grazing across Kurt's prostate with every thrust. Kurt looked up at him, blue eyes wide and glassy. Something shifted between them. Blaine could feel everything; every drop of sweat that passed between them, every inch of skin pressed together, every degree of heat radiating off them. But all he could think of were those eyes, and all the emotion they were portraying, everything they were giving him.

He leaned down and captured Kurt's lips in a kiss. It was slow but passionate, tongues swirling, working together. If Blaine had to describe his actions in that moment he could only say he was making love.

With this sudden realization Blaine felt a heat spread throughout his limbs. At the very same time Kurt whined, 'Touch me, please, B-Blaine. I need-'

He reached down to take Kurt's hard cock in his hand, stroking him in time with each of his thrusts. Blaine could feel a tightening in his belly. He sped up his thrusts, wanting, needing Kurt to come with him.

'Come on, Kurt. Let go.' Kurt's head thrashed against the pillow as he let out a low moan. 'I've got you, let go.'

With that Kurt arched up off the bed, tightening around Blaine and coming between them. His mouth stretched in a silent scream, Blaine watched him for as long as he could, unable to believe the pure beauty of Kurt in that moment, before his own orgasm took over.

He worked them through their highs before collapsing, a little heavily, on top of Kurt. Blaine lay there with his head on Kurt's chest, both breathing heavily, before he became too sensitive and had to pull out. They both winced at the movement, Blaine tying off the condom and tossing it in the direction of his trashcan.

Neither said a word as Blaine got up to grab a cloth from his bathroom. He cleaned Kurt up, gently wiping the cloth over him. He dropped it on the top of his clothes hamper before making his way back to bed, crawling under the sheets and wrapping his arms around Kurt's middle.

As soon as he felt Kurt tense beneath him he realized his mistake. 'Oh, god. I'm sorry.' He quickly rolled onto his back, arms crossed across his chest awkwardly. He knew spooning probably didn't come as part of the package Sebastian had paid for. He winced at the thought, having completely ruined the moment. If there was even one to be had.

'I mean, you can stay. If you want. Or go. You know, whatever.' He stumbled over his words, his face heating up. 'I can sleep in the spare room, or the couch.'

'No.' Kurt's voice was quiet. He turned towards Blaine, gently prying his arms from his chest. 'It's okay. I'd- I'd like it if you'd stay. Please?'

Blaine nodded slightly, once again wrapping his arms around Kurt so his chest was pressed to his back. He fell asleep to the gentle movements of Kurt breathing.

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><p>Kurt listened to Blaine fall asleep. He felt the warmth of him pressed against his back, the weight of his arms around his waist. Before he could stop it an almost imperceptible sob escaped him.<p>

It was perfect, exactly as it should have been. Blaine was careful and beautiful and everything he had ever wanted in a first time. Except for love.

Or had there been? The way Blaine had looked at him. First worshiping his body with small kisses and bites and licks, mapping out every part of him. Then the moment when their eyes connected. Something moved between them. People always described it as a spark, fireworks, but it was the opposite. There was a distinct lack of anything but them. The world had fallen away leaving nothing but these two souls, two bodies connected in the most intimate way.

But where did it leave Kurt? He was a stripper. _Prostitute, now,_ a snide part of his mind reminded him. Blaine would never want anything to do with him after tonight. Handsome, wealthy, Blaine, who had a bright future ahead of him. The opposite of Kurt in everyway, who had to take his clothes off for closeted businessmen just to feed himself.

At that moment Blaine made a little snuffling sound in his sleep, pulling Kurt closer to him and burying his face into the back of his neck. Kurt's heart ached to think he would never experience this again. That this moment was fleeting, lasting as long as the money would that was tucked into one of his socks in this overnight bag. He would go to the bank tomorrow to deposit it and pay off the debts he could. And then it would be over, the last traces of Blaine gone from his life. But Kurt wasn't ready to let it go just yet.

Blaine sighed in his sleep and Kurt let his mind wander, imagining knowing every little quirk of his. He imagined the way he never wore socks, so his feet were always cold. He imagined the way he would forget to shave when he was stressed. He imagined the way he would always kiss Kurt's forehead before he left the house.

Kurt fell asleep that way, wrapped in Blaine's arms, pretending they had many more nights like this together, pretending they had a life together.

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><p><strong>PS You should come visit me at miss-elliot[dot]tumblr. We could have some fun together. <strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**I can't believe the response I'm getting from this fic already. Thank you so much. I do little claps every time my email dings with something from FF. Also huge thank you's to freelancewhales for betaing this for me. **

**A few of you said you had trouble with the link in the last chapter. As such I am going to post the prompt on my tumblr (miss-elliot[dot]tumblr) for anyone interested.**

**I have a few little notes regarding this chapter, and context, but we'll get to those at the end. **

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><p>Kurt woke feeling better rested than he had in months, years even. His bed felt softer beneath him, the thread count on his sheets upped by hundreds. The early morning sun was warm on his back, curled around his body just so. Except the warmth was much too solid to be sunlight, and the sun didn't move with the steady pace of breathing.<p>

And then it all came back to him. _The dance. The cash. Blaine._ Kurt didn't know how to feel, it was much too early to process the fact that he had sold his virginity to a boy he could easily fall in love with, given a chance and entirely different circumstances. All he knew is he had to get out of there.

As carefully as he could he lifted Blaine's arm off him and slipped away from his body. Sitting up on the side of the bed he felt a twinge in his lower back, just another reminder of the previous night's events.

He was pulling on his boxers when Kurt heard a voice behind him. 'You're not going anywhere, are you?'

Kurt froze in his action, underwear sitting low on his hips, and turned around. Blaine was looking up at him through squinted eyes. His hair was messy, sticking up all over his head in uneven curls, voice rough from sleep. Kurt took a moment to appreciate the lines of his back, shoulder blades prominent among muscle. There were a series of small bruises on his hips, just above where the sheet was resting. With a shock Kurt realized they were from his own fingertips.

'Uh, well- yeah. I was.' Kurt had no idea what Blaine wanted from him. It had sounded like disappointment in his voice, like he wanted Kurt to stay, but Kurt just couldn't afford to think like that.

'I was going to make us breakfast.'

Kurt didn't mean for it to happen, but he made a strange noise in the back of his throat somewhere between a squeak and a sigh. He blushed, unable to believe that he had actually made an audible sound.

Blaine simply frowned a little, as though confused. 'You can take a shower if you want. I'll get started.'

Kurt scratched his elbow, suddenly realizing he was still only in his boxers. 'No, it's fine.' He said quickly as he moved around the room collecting the rest of his clothes. 'You don't have to. I'll just go. Get out of your hair…' Kurt trailed off, remembering exactly what it was like to run his fingers through said hair.

Blaine, who was sitting now, legs folded beneath him, tensed. It reminded Kurt of the night before when Blaine had first tried to cuddle him. Like the thought he was about to be scolded, told he was wrong and should be quiet. Kurt wondered what it was that made a boy like Blaine so quick to assume he had done something wrong.

'Oh,' Blaine said quietly. 'I mean, it's no trouble. But if you have somewhere to be, or something, that's fine. Whatever. It's up to you.'

Kurt knew he should leave. He knew he should make a clean break while he still could. He should just finish getting dressed and walk out the door. Instead he said, 'Where is the shower?'

Blaine's face lit up, although Kurt couldn't figure out why. Why did he still want Kurt around?

'Through that door. There are fresh towels in the cupboard, take whatever you need.'

Kurt nodded and picked up his overnight bag.

Kurt ran the shower too hot. He let the warm water sooth his muscles, trying not to think about the situation he was in. How his life had changed so dramatically in the last twelve hours. Part of him thought if he had known he would have called in sick for work. The other part ached at the idea of never having met Blaine.

When he was finished, his skin feeling raw but strangely fresh, he quickly dressed into the clothes he had bought with him, only pausing slightly to dig the money out of his sock to put it on.

Quietly he padded into the kitchen. Blaine was standing with his back to Kurt, leaning over the stovetop, cooking pancakes if the smell was anything to go by. He was wearing a pale blue t-shirt, the cotton so thin it was almost see through, and a pair of sweat pants, just visible over the breakfast island.

Blaine only looked up when Kurt sat down at one of the stools tucked under the island. He turned around with a shy smile. 'Um, I made pancakes. I just assume everyone likes pancakes. If you don't there is fruit salad in the fridge.'

If Kurt didn't know any better he would say from the tone of Blaine's voice that the boy was trying to impress him. And Kurt was impressed. Judging but the flour everywhere he was making them from scratch. 'Pancakes are fine.'

'Excellent.' Kurt could practically count the teeth in Blaine's grin.

When Blaine finally passed over a plate with two pancakes on it, having burnt the first patch, they sat down opposite each other and ate in silence. It was a little awkward, however, Kurt reasoned, not nearly as awkward as the questions that were sure to come up in the very near future.

Sure enough moments later Kurt heard the intake of breath that meant Blaine was about to speak.

'So, what's your favorite color?'

'What?' Blaine didn't actually just say what he thought he did. Did he?

Blaine coughed a little awkwardly and repeated, 'What's your favorite color?'

Kurt paused, watching Blaine for a few seconds, thinking that this was surely a joke, that Blaine was making fun of him. But he found nothing but curiosity in Blaine's eyes, maybe just a hint of embarrassment.

'Um, aubergine.'

Blaine just nodded and picked at his pancake with his fingers.

'Why?' Kurt asks after a few minutes, using a knife and fork with his own breakfast.

Blaine looks up at him mid-chew, 'Hmm?'

'Why did you ask what my favorite color was? I'm sure there are more…pertinent questions.'

'Favorite color says a lot about a person.'

'Oh?'

Blaine nods, the corner of his mouth pulled up in a smile.

'And what does my choice say about me?' Kurt raised an eyebrow, his expression almost challenging.

'Purple is a royal color, so I think you wanted a lot more for yourself, you had big dreams. Despite your current occupation you respect yourself. There is a small part of you that thinks you can still fulfil those dreams. Purple can be both a warm and cool color, so there are many different sides to you, but I would think you only like people to see one of those. And don't even get me started on the fact you called it aubergine rather than eggplant.' Blaine chuckled a little at the end, as though trying to play down his analysis.

But there was no playing this down. Somehow Blaine knew him. Through the simple question that so many people have asked before, Blaine knew more about Kurt than anyone ever had.

Kurt frowned down into his plate. This was all becoming too much for him. If he stayed here any longer he would convince himself this is something it wasn't. It was a simple business transaction, just like any of his dances. Blaine was his client, nothing more. Breakfast was just an added bonus.

The apartment suddenly seemed too small. Blaine was practically sitting on top of him, the air too thick to breathe properly.

'I- I have to go.' Kurt managed to choke out, dropping his knife and fork loudly. He all but ran back into Blaine's bedroom to grab his overnight bag. When he returned Blaine was waiting for him near the door. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets and he was wearing an unreadable expression.

'Look, I know we don't really know each other or anything, but I really like you. And I really would like to get to know you better.' He didn't look at Kurt while he spoke, instead kicking at the edge of a floorboard that wasn't really lifting. 'So, um, could I maybe have your number?'

Kurt opened his mouth, words following seconds later. 'I- I dunno, Blaine.'

'No, that's okay. Um, here.' He turned on his heel and jogged back towards the kitchen.

Kurt was tempted to leave, just go before Blaine returned. But something was holding him to the spot; he didn't want to think about exactly what it was.

Blaine returned holding out a piece of paper towards Kurt. 'Please call.' He said as Kurt took the small square. 'I know it's not the usually way to meet someone…' He trailed off as though he didn't know where the sentence was headed.

Kurt nodded once and shoved Blaine's phone number into his pocket. There was an awkward silence, neither knowing exactly how to say goodbye. The Blaine leaned forward, placed one hand on Kurt's shoulder and kissed his cheek. Kurt froze, his face heating up.

Blaine pulled back, his face just as read as Kurt suspected his own. 'Well, bye.'

Kurt ducked his head and opened the front door of Blaine's apartment. 'Bye.'

He stepped over the threshold of Blaine's apartment for what he believed would be the last time.

'Blainers'

'Hi, Seb.' Blaine often acted like he simply tolerated Sebastian but the truth was they were best friends. Their personalities may have contrasted and often clashed but they were always there for each other when they needed each other. Being a gay teenager in Ohio was not easy and both boys knew just how difficult it could be sometimes. So when they transferred to Dalton within weeks of each other a connection was inevitable. They leant on each other. Dalton was accepting but it is difficult to accept sympathy from people who have no idea what you have been through. Empathy is much easier to swallow.

'Well?'

'Well what?'

Blaine heard Sebastian sigh on the other end of the phone. He had been expecting this phone call but that didn't mean he was going to give it to him easily.

'You know what I'm talking about.'

'The well? Please don't tell me we have to rescue Timmy.'

'Blaine.'

'Sebastian.'

'Fine. We're going to play it like that?'

'Mhmm.'

'Are you still a virgin?'

It was Blaine's turn to sigh. 'No,' he said reluctantly

'Yes!'

Blaine could practically hear him fist pumping in his dorm room

'Okay, okay. You can stop it now.'

'So?'

'So, what?'

'Stop playing Blaine.'

'I actually have no idea what you are talking about.'

'How was it?' He said it as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

'Good. Great. I mean, I don't have much to compare it with…'

'Ah, my little baby Blainers, all grown up having finally entered the world of men.'

Blaine let his head flop to the back of the couch where he was currently sitting. 'Surely that is not the one thing that truly makes you a man.'

'Of course it is.'

'And how do you know this.'

'Because I am a sexual genius.'

Blaine snorted. 'Sure. I bet your room mate loves that.'

'Blaine, you do realize you are more of my roommate that my actual roommate?'

'I do. And I beg to differ of the whole sexual genius thing.'

Sebastian made a muffled choking noise; Blaine knew he was holding his hand over his heart looking exaggeratedly wounded.

'I could tell that Porcelain would be good. A friend of mine had seen him dance. Hips to die for, or so the rumors go.'

'Kurt.' Blaine blurted out.

'What?'

Blaine was glad this conversation was over the phone because he didn't think he could handle Sebastian seeing him blush like he was now. 'His name is Kurt.'

'Whatever. Listen, I'm coming over. This needs more discussion.'

'Seb.'

'Don't Seb me. I'll see you in half an hour.'

'Fine. Bring coffee.'

Blaine hung up before Sebastian could argue, tossing his phone onto the cushions of the couch. He knew Sebastian would want all the details, and that was not something Blaine particularly wanted to discuss. _Kurt is probably telling all his friends down at the club how he had his way with a pretty little virgin last night._ Blaine quickly pushed that thought away. Something told him Kurt wasn't like that. He wasn't the sort to brag about his conquests. There was something shy about the boy, a little but uncertain. It almost reminded Blaine of himself.

Blaine hadn't realized just how long he had been sitting there lost in his own thoughts when the door banged open.

'Honey, I'm home.'

'Please tell me you bought coffee.'

'First I give you coffee, then you give me details.' Blaine simply glared at his best friend.

Kurt sipped at his coffee and sighed. It had been so long since he had could afford a real cup of coffee, the instant stuff he kept in his apartment did not count. Since his father had died from a second heart attack mere weeks after Kurt's eighteenth birthday he hadn't been able to afford much of anything.

The bank had reclaimed the house, as without the steady income of the tire shop Kurt couldn't afford the mortgage. Kurt was forced to sell the business in order to move to New York, but once he arrived he realized that hospitable bills and funeral arrangements were more expensive than he had every realized, more expensive than student fees and suddenly NYADA was out of the question.

And so Kurt had to juggle surviving and paying off debt, splitting his pay checks between food and the bank.

At first he had worked in a coffee shop, because really where else did a down-on-their-luck teenager work in NYC? There he had met Greg, who had introduced him to Tom, who had introduced him to Tony who ran Richard's _(think about it)._ And Porcelain was born.

The pay wasn't that much better than the coffee shop, but the work fulfilled Kurt's desire to perform. Tony even occasionally let him sing. Those nights Kurt always got the most tips. Porcelain was slowly becoming a fan favorite and Kurt was starting to notice a steady decrease in his debts.

Now, thanks to Sebastian, Kurt had finally paid for his father's funeral, a full year after he had buried him next to his mother. There were still hospital bills, but it was something.

In order to celebrate Kurt had indulged himself in coffee. He didn't drink, mostly because he was underage, but he also seen what it had done to his colleagues. Also it was ten in the morning. So coffee was the obvious celebratory beverage. As he drank he fiddled with the piece of paper with Blaine's phone number. At first he had debated calling him. However he quickly came to the resolution that no good could come of it.

Sure, Blaine may _think _he likes Kurt. But they haven't even talked, not really. Blaine didn't know him besides from a few lucky guesses based on Kurt's favorite color. They would go on a few dates; they might even have a few things in common. But before long Blaine would realize just how different they are, just how far below him Kurt was. Then he would leave Kurt, just like everyone else in his life.

Kurt knew of heartbreak. He knew enough to make sure it never happened to him again.

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><p><strong>Ok so the context of this (as mandated by the prompt) is Burt never married Carole. As such Kurt was left alone when Burt died. If I had him die after the first heart attack Kurt simply would have gone into foster care and that would of been the end of that, so he had to be eighteen when Burt died. I hope that makes sense.<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**Back to uni this week, which means two things: One, I'm writing on the train again (hello, train smut). Two, updates will slow considerably. I'm think once a week is gunna be the average. **

**I'm so excited for this fic and the response I'm getting, so I just wanted to thank you all for that (and of course you can keep telling me how much you like it *hint hint*). **

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><p>Blaine knew he was starting to doze off, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. He was struggling to remember why he had ever decided to take art history as his lecturer began to discuss the significance of barbed wire in twenty first century art. It was warm in the lecture theatre, hinting at the beginning of summer, the perfect temperature to lull the entire class into an indifference towards the artist's choice of a particular type of barbed wire over another.<p>

Blaine was twirling his pen between his fingers, the lazy movement hypnotizing him. His phone buzzed in his pocket unexpectedly, causing him to jump in his seat. The girl next to him looked offended by his sudden movement, turning back to her sparkly pink notebook pointedly.

Heart racing, as it always did when his phone went off lately; Blaine fished the device out of his pocket. What if this was it? This was the time Kurt texted him? It had been almost three weeks (nineteen days) since he and Kurt had… met. But Kurt hadn't contacted him once. Blaine knew it had to be his decision. He also knew his hesitation. According to Kurt Blaine was just some guy who had visited a strip club. He could be anybody.

Except he wasn't. Blaine couldn't explain it. The way Kurt was always just under the surface of his thoughts, the way the color blue now reminded him of his eyes, always dull compared to the real thing. Blaine found himself wondering what Kurt was doing, or whether his essay marks, or outfit would impress him.

He had even started to plan their first date in his head. Where he would take Kurt, what they would eat, even the whole conversation. It was starting to get on Sebastian's nerves.

'Hello, earth to Blaine? You still with us, buddy?'

'Of course,' Blaine said too quickly.

'Don't lie to me.'

'Maybe I would stick around longer if the conversation were more interesting?' He sipped his coffee triumphantly. He had actually thinking about how Kurt would tell him about his little sister, they had a close relationship despite the fact that she was quite a bit younger than him. She loved it when he did her hair, something he did as much as he could whenever he was visiting home in Jersey. Or maybe it would be Staten island. Funnily enough Blaine's fantasies never involved the story of how Kurt became a stripper.

'I'm plenty interesting. Maybe if you just listen to my story-'

'About the time you told the high school kid you were straight, too, your girlfriend just thought it would be a fun experiment if you made out? Heard it.'

'Really?'

Blaine nodded, lips pressed together.

'Damn. That was a good one, too.' There had been genuine disappointment in Sebastian's voice.

When he had finally pulled his phone out of his pocket, once again earning him a disapproving looking from Princess Sparkles next to him, he took a deep breath before looking down at his phone.

_Wes: You had better be coming home for the holidays. _Talk about an anticlimax.

He quickly tapped out a response, looking up occasionally to make sure the Professor didn't catch him, that, yes, he would be home for a few days at the very least.

He turned his attention back to the lecture, but of course by now he was completely lost. Instead he settled for doodling in the top corner of his notebook; squiggly lines that could easily be mistaken for the letters K and B intertwined.

Blaine hadn't noticed the lecture was over, only realizing because of the flurry of movement that was two hundred students packing up as quickly as possible in order to get to more important things. Most likely coffee, the fuel of the university student.

The girl beside him huffed and gave him one last glare before flicking her dark hair and stalking down the aisle. Blaine wanted to explain to her that he was usually a model student, who was doing quite well, thank you very much. But he got the impression she would be the type to argue and figured it would be a pointless battle.

He shoved his notebook into his messenger bag, hoping that the lecture would not be a key point in the final exam, which would take place in three weeks. It was important he kept up his grade average or he would loose his apartment. His father thought it very important he keep good marks and Blaine was not about to suffer through that disappointment.  
>Speaking of his apartment, Blaine was supposed to be meeting Sebastian. His best friend had been eating him out of house and home and it was time he refilled Blaine's fridge. He pulled out his phone once more, his heart only fluttering slightly, and texted Sebastian. The reply was almost instant. <em>Do I have to?<em>

Blaine didn't bother replying, he knew Sebastian would be at the time and place he had told him. For someone who was such a dick he was surprisingly reliable.

An hour later found the pair in the supermarket two blocks from Blaine's apartment. Sebastian was following him around the aisles, throwing things into the shopping cart on a whim, while Blaine selected the essentials. He was glad it was Blaine doing the actual shopping because there was no way in hell he would have remembered toilet paper.

Blaine, of course, was in one of his moods. Clearly not paying much attention to the world around him, he simply nodded and hummed to answer to Sebastian's attempts at conversation.

'So I was thinking I would just sleep in your bed tonight. We could spoon.'

'Hmm, yeah ok.' Blaine had his phone in his hand, the shopping list was on the screen, but his mind was clearly not.

Sebastian had never meant for this to happen. He had always known Blaine was a bit funny when it came to feelings and all that, he had always told Sebastian he liked romance. But Sebastian had always assumed a good fuck would fix that problem right up. So he did his friend a favor, or so he had thought. Although this, all the time Blaine spent in dreamland, this wasn't what he wanted. Sebastian was, for the first time in memory, experiencing guilt. He decided that in order to make himself feel better about the situation was to make Blaine feel better. Blaine was pining over this stripper, then they would go out, find the stripper and the two would live happily ever after. Personally, he thought the whole thing was ridiculous but if it made Blaine happy then it was worth giving it a shot.

'Let's go to Richard's tonight.'

That snapped Blaine out of his daydream. 'What?'

'Well I feel like getting drunk and watching naked men dance. You need to find and shag that stripper again. It's win-win.' Sebastian shrugged.

'First of all you're not British, don't say shag. Secondly, no.' Blaine turned his attention back to their shopping.

'Come on.' Sebastian whined.

'No.'

'Please?' Sebastian's not above begging. He knew this was the right thing to do. Sure it was an unorthodox method, but it was the best he had.

'No!'

'Why not?'

'Because.'

'Blaine, you have the debate skills of a five-year-old. I thought you were the intelligent one.'

'He doesn't want to see me okay.' Seb didn't miss the way his best friend's voice cracked a little.

'But-'

'No, Sebastian. I know why you wanted to do this, but no. I'm not going to force myself upon him like some needy kid. It was just a quick way for him to earn some money, that much is obvious. It doesn't matter how I feel or think.' And with that he has turned the corner, leaving Sebastian alone with the cereal.

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><p>Kurt woke up hard and sweating. He didn't have to stretch his memory too far to know what he had been dreaming about that had caused him to wake up in such a state. It was the same as it was every night. Tan skin, dark, curly hair, hazel eyes. Intense, beautiful, hazel eyes.<p>

As he recalled the dream, or was it a memory, his hand skittered down his chest and stomach, loosely fisting around his cock. He remembered the weight of a warm body pressed against him; hard lines and toned muscles. He remembered the sounds; low moans and rough curse words. But most of all he remembered the eyes.

He hand was working quickly now, pre come making everything slick. He thought about the way those eyes looked at him, pierced him. The way they softened as soon as the met his own. With that image he came with a cry, back arching off the bed, golden green stars exploding behind his eyelids.

Kurt kept his eyes closed as his heart rate returned to normal and his breathing slowed. When he had calmed down enough to move he reached over to the nightstand to grab a couple of tissues. He cleaned himself off roughly, knowing he would have a shower soon anyway.

Kurt hated and lived for those dreams. He knew he had to let Blaine go. There was no way he could ever maintain a relationship with him and as such it was better for both of them if Kurt ignored the piece of paper with the phone number that was stuck to his fridge. But he couldn't throw the paper out. It was his only lifeline, all that was left of their night together. So it stayed there and Kurt was stuck in limbo, hating holding on to Blaine, but never wanting to let him go.

He sighed, realizing he was still in bed, sweaty and half covered in come. Dragging himself up, he took a quick shower.

Kurt was supposed to be meeting Rachel for lunch. They didn't see much of each other anymore, between his constant nightshifts and her class timetable they didn't have time for it. But she only had one class that morning and had insisted.

Of course, she didn't know what Kurt actually did for a living. She knew he couldn't afford to study but she had no idea just how deep his monetary problems ran. From the way he talked about it she assumed it was some kind of cabaret club. It wasn't that Kurt was ashamed of what he did, well he was a little, but he knew that she would want to help. He couldn't allow that. Rachel was a student, she could barely afford to keep herself going, and there was absolutely no way in hell Kurt would ever accept money from her dads. So he let her keep on believing that he worked in a cabaret club.

By the time Kurt was dressed, and his hair styled it was time for him to leave. He couldn't afford a cab so he always had to leave time for the subway wherever he went. It usually meant anywhere between an extra half hour, to an hour travel. But it was something he had become accustomed to.

Lunch went as it always did; Rachel complaining about the trials and tribulations of college, discussing her last audition and why the director clearly didn't _understand_ her. It wasn't until they ordered coffee that Rachel noticed Kurt. He had barely argued with her the whole time, instead, um-ing and ah-ing along with her. The truth was their waiter had dark curly hair and from the moment he first came out to take their order he was a goner.

'What is wrong with you today?'

Kurt managed to focus his attention at the direct question. 'What? Nothing.'

'I don't believe you.' She narrowed her eyes at him.

'It's fine Rachel.' Kurt really did not want to discuss this with her. How would that conversation go? _Oh it's nothing, I just sold my virginity and may have fallen in love with the guy despite the fact that I haven't seen him since. _Yeah, not likely.

'Kuuurt.' She whined.

'No, Rachel.' It was at that point the waiter came out with their coffees. Kurt ducked his head as he placed the mug in front of him.

'Oh my god.' Rachel looked at him with wide eyes and mouth.

'What?'

'It's a boy.'

'Yes, he is. How very astute of you, Rachel.' Kurt stirred his coffee.

'Not the waiter, the thing. Whatever it is that has you in dreamland.' She smiled triumphantly.

'Yes, fine.' Kurt huffed. 'It's a boy. But its absolutely impossible, will never happen and I don't want to talk about it.'

Rachel simply continued to grin at him.

* * *

><p>'I can't believe you managed this.'<p>

'I am masterful in the ways of seduction.'

Blaine snorted, 'More like irritation.'

'Potato, potahto.' Sebastian shrugged.

They were standing outside Richard's again. This time Blaine was less nervous as he was reluctant. Sebastian had managed to convince him by telling him he didn't have to talk to Kurt. He could let Kurt come to him, and if he didn't, well, Blaine would have his answer. At the time it had seemed reasonable, but now he was here…

They easily made it past the security, but neither had assumed it would be a problem, not after last time. This time it was Blaine who headed straight for the bar, ordering two whisky soda's once he had gained the bar tender's attention.

'Well, someone's keen.' Sebastian accepted his drink of Blaine, sipping it with a smirk.

'I think I deserve it don't you?' Blaine, on the other hand, gulped down the entire glass in three mouthfuls.

Sebastian studied Blaine over the top of his drink, squinting in the dim lights of the club. 'I suppose.'

The club was exactly as Blaine remembered it, perhaps even a little seedier now the initial shock had worn off. He knew what to look for; wedding bands on fingers, the dead look in the dancer's eyes, red faces indicating intoxication.

It suddenly hit him that Kurt worked here. Of course he knew that Kurt danced here, but it had only just occurred to Blaine that Kurt spent a significant amount of time here. He knew the people on stage, their real names, personal histories, boyfriends, hometowns. Blaine was struggling to imagine what that was really like. Up until this point strippers had always been some kind of mystical beings, never thought about apart from their occupation. But here was the reality, staring him in the face, and it wasn't particularly pleasant.

At some point during the night Sebastian left Blaine by the bar, somewhere between his third and fourth drink. Kurt, or Porcelain, was yet to make an appearance. Sebastian had started to get bored watching Blaine drink himself silly so ventured to the bench surrounding the stage "to get a better view". Blaine stayed on his stool at the bar, staring in to the bottom of his glass as though it held all the answers.

At fifteen minutes to closing Blaine was drunk, there was simply no other way of putting it. It was obvious Kurt wasn't dancing tonight and Blaine had drowned his sorrows, nerves, everything, in alcohol. Sebastian, having noticed his best friend's steady decline early in the night, was relatively sober.

Blaine was now slumped over the bar, head in his arms. Sebastian shook his shoulder attempting to rouse Blaine in order to get him home.

'Come on Blainers, it's time to go.' The music was playing softly at this point, the performances over for the night, and Seb could keep his voice at a reasonable volume.

'But he didn't come Seb.' Blaine looked up, eyes shining, voice small and desperate in a way only alcohol could cause.

'I know. Not much we can do about that now, though.' Sebastian had a bad feeling this was going to end in tears.

'I'm going to be alone forever.' Blaine said it as though he had come to terms with the fact. 'Just like they said.'

'Blaine-'

'No, its true. I mean the only person who has ever shown interest in me was Kurt. And you paid him, Seb. You paid him.' Sebastian could feel his heart breaking a little. Blaine wasn't one to talk too much about his feelings. He always seemed confident in himself, happy to wait for the right boy, rather than seek out affection wherever he could like Sebastian. That was what he showed the world, but Sebastian thought behind that happy exterior was a much darker place.

'Blaine, there is a guy out there for you. Someone who deserves you. You just gotta find him. But for now lets get you home.'

Sebastian practically carried Blaine out onto the street. In the cab he curled into Sebastian's side and passed out, dreaming of blue eyes.

* * *

><p>Kurt spent his night curled up on Rachel's couch with a mug of tea, a bucket of ice cream and endless Rom-Coms. By the end of the night both were feeling slightly ill and very clingy. Therefore Rachel was now dozing on Kurt's chest while he played with her hair. The girl may have had an awful taste in fashion, but she had beautiful hair, though Kurt would never admit it, he loved to play with it.<p>

Kurt had refused to talk about "The Boy", not matter much Rachel prodded. He admitted they had met at work. No, he wasn't a performer. Of course he was attractive, Kurt had standards. Geez. But that was the end of it.

Rachel could tell that Kurt was guarding himself. By refusing to talk about it he was preventing himself from feeling, whether it be good or bad. She had seen him do the same thing before first with his mom, then his dad and most recently NYADA.

Rachel so desperately wanted to help him, but had no idea how. Ice cream could only go so far and it hadn't removed the sad look deep in Kurt's eyes.

'It will happen.' She mumbled into his chest.

Kurt jumped a little, having thought she had fallen asleep. 'What?'

'You'll find him.' She shifted to rest her chin against him, their eyes meeting.

'Rach-'

'No. You are so wonderful Kurt. You just have to wait until you find the perfect guy. That's why it'ws taking so long. You deserve perfection.'

Kurt could feel the tears stinging at his eyes. 'Oh, Rachel.'

'I love you.' She had moved again, back to her original spot, eyes now closed.

'I love you, too.'

'You'll find him, Kurt.'

* * *

><p>'You'll find him, Blaine.'<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

**SORRYSORRYSORRY! I know I said weekly updates, but apparently spilling tea all over your Mac does not help such plans. Who knew? Anyways here we go with the next chapter. I wrote most of this weeks ago, then the rest of it in, like, a day. I hope you enjoy this one, I'm hoping to get the next chapter out in a week, but we all know how reliable I am. Love.**

* * *

><p>Kurt hated Ohio. It symbolized everything that had gone wrong with his life, everything that had pushed him further and further away from Broadway and into his current, decidedly less glamorous, life. But it was also home. It was where he had grown up, where all the memories of his mom and dad were held. Despite the fact that he cringed even at the slightest mention of his old hometown, there was a soft spot for it in his heart, a closely guarded place filled with fond memories and happier times.<p>

Rachel knew this, although they never actually spoke of it out loud. Even though he had complained like a bitch, she had dragged Kurt back to Lima for two weeks during her summer break. Her fathers (under Rachel's strong persuasion, he suspected) insisted he come stay with them. The trip would also give him an opportunity to catch up with the old members of the New Directions.

Mercedes had ended up at OSU, and although he emailed her regularly, he had barely seen her since high school. Finn also attended the Columbus campus, in the hopes of getting into sports management, after loosing his football scholarship. Their parents had dated briefly before Kurt's dad had become unwell, so Kurt felt a special bond towards the former quarterback. He had heard rumors (he had no idea where Rachel got her sources from) that Brittany was flying in from LA, the company she danced with breaking up for the summer.

It was likely that other members of the old glee club would be returning home, and there were those that never left. Where as the winter break was reserved for Christmas and spending time with family (for those who still has some), summer was the party season. And despite their social standing in high school, the glee club knew how to party.

So Kurt had taken two weeks of holiday from work, much to Tony's dismay. It was the first time in the six months he had been working there he had taken off, so to hell with his manager, he was going on holiday.

He succeeded in finding them extremely cheap flights by booking last minute, and as an added bonus he was not able to sit next to Rachel during the two-hour trip. Kurt felt for the poor sucker who did end up in the seat next to hers, as she was not the best of fliers. Rachel may be small but she had a grip like a vice and wasn't afraid of sharing it around.

Leroy and Hiram met them at arrivals with matching grins. It never ceased to amaze Kurt the strength of their marriage and the sheer happiness that radiated from them, despite their constant bickering. If ever there were to be an example in support of marriage equality it would be the Misters Berry.

Rachel broke into a run when she spotted her fathers, flinging herself into their arms. Kurt took his time, allowing the family a moment of private reunion. As soon as he was close enough, however, Hiram reached an arm out to pull him into the group huddle as though greeting a son. It was a strange, but not unwelcome, feeling. It had been a while since he had felt like anyone's son.

Kurt was thankful that the nature of the Berries allowed him to sit quietly during the hour car trip home from the airport. Rachel always insisted she and her dads had no idea which one of them was her biological father. This had turned into somewhat of a joke during their high school years because not only was Leroy of African-American decent but also Rachel had inherited her exuberance (to put it kindly) from her father. She and Hiram talked non-stop the whole way home, about everything from their superiority to their peers (Hiram was an active member of Lima's community theatre program) to anything Barbara. Leroy interjected with the occasional comment and soothing words when the discussion turned heated.

When they reached the Berry residence Kurt excused himself, claiming the need to freshen up after the flight and following car trip. He hauled his luggage to the now familiar spare bedroom and flopped down onto the bed face first. Already he was missing New York, the anonymity of it all, the ability to get lost in the crowd. It was so much more difficult to hide himself here. He wondered whether he could survive the next two weeks.

* * *

><p>'And your GPA is still four point oh?'<p>

'Yes, Dad. I send you the results of each of my assessments. You _know_ I'm getting A's.' Blaine sighed. He had only been home three hours and he was already sick of this. The constant need to live up to his father's standards, expectations that were bordering on impossible to fill. The family dinner was turning into an interrogation and it was getting on Blaine's nerves.

'I am just ensuring that my investment will be a successful one.' Of course, Blaine was an "investment". Mr Anderson was a businessman down to the bone. Blaine knew his father loved him, but it had always been hard for him to put aside his work and just be a dad.

'I know, Dad, I know. I'm working as hard as I can, I promise.' And Blaine loved his dad, no matter what, and he did everything he could to please him.

'Blaine, honey, have you been eating? You're looking awfully thin.' In the same way everything was business with his father, his mother was most concerned about appearances. Sure there might have been a hint of concern for Blaine's health in there, but her primary concern was that he didn't _look_ well cared for. Blaine didn't think it necessary to inform his mother that more often than not Sebastian stole all his food and he was living off Chinese take out and apples. The Anderson's tolerated Sebastian for Blaine's sake, but certainly were not his biggest fans.

'Of course ,Mom.'

It wasn't that Blaine hated coming home; it was just a lot of work. He missed his parents when he was gone, but it was always a relief to get away. New York was his real home, and he would always much rather be there.

'Mom, Dad, do you mind if I just head up to bed?' Blaine asked. He was exhausted from travelling and he was starting to get a headache.

'But you've barely touched your meal.' His mother looked concerned.

'Yeah, I'm just really tired. You know, from the plane and cab and all.'

'Yes, of course. Good night, darling.'

'Night, Mom.' He leant over and kissed her cheek. 'Night, Dad.'

'Night, son.'

Blaine trudged his way up the stairs to his old bedroom, collapsing into bed and falling asleep almost immediately, jeans and all.

He awoke the next morning with an indent from the button on his cuff pressed into his cheek and one of the legs of his jeans firmly stuck up around his knee. Blaine was unsure as to what woke him, other than the uncomfortable weight of his clothes, until his phone buzzed in his pocket.

He rolled over and pulled it out of his pocket. _Five text messages from Wes._

_8.56_

_Are you home yet?_

_9.17_

_Stop sleeping. I called your home, I know you're there._

_9.23_

_There is a party tonight. You're coming._

_9.45_

_Seriously, Blaine?_

_10.01_

_You're ignoring me on purpose now. _

Blaine groaned as he read the messages. He quickly tapped out a response telling Wes no, he wasn't ignoring him and he would meet him at the Lima Bean in forty five minutes.

_10.05_

_He lives! See you then. _

* * *

><p>If there were one thing about Lima that Kurt wished he could take to New York with him, it would be the Lima Bean. There was something about the round tables with their ring stains and smiling baristas in matching uniforms that made him feel peaceful. That and it had the best coffee he had ever tasted.<p>

Rachel had texted Finn and asked if they could catch up (why she kept torturing herself like that, Kurt would never understand) and he had wanted to see Mercedes for weeks so they all agreed to meet at the coffee shop. He and Rachel were a little early, Kurt unable to accept tardiness, so they headed straight to the counter. There was a line, as usual, so they joined it, Kurt attempting to block out Rachel's nervous rambling about how exactly she would greet Finn.

As the two boys in front of them ordered, Kurt froze. He knew that voice. Shit, he _knew_ that voice. He turned on the spot unsure what to do, his internal panic pushing its way outwards.

'Kurt, what are you doing?' Rachel looked at him as though he was crazy as he started wringing his hands together.

'Kurt?' Blaine turned around, a look of absolute disbelief on his gorgeous face.

This could not be happening. Of all the places in the world for Blaine to be at this moment, he had to be here. What was he even doing in Lima? He lived in New York.

This was it. Blaine was going to ruin everything. He was going to expose his double life. And to Rachel of all people, he may as well call every newspaper in America.

'Hi.' Kurt managed to get out. If he thought his voice was high at rest, this was at a level only dogs could hear. Blaine's friend, a tall, Asian boy, watched him with a calm curiosity that did not seem to fit the situation.

Before another word could be exchanged Rachel stuck her hand out towards Blaine.

'Rachel Berry. And you are?' She had adopted a business like tone, reserved for making herself appear superior to others. It was a voice Kurt was very familiar with, but it didn't seem to faze the two teenagers in front of them.

'Blaine Anderson.'

'Wesley Montgomery. But Wes will do fine.'

Kurt wanted to bury his face in his hands as the exchange took place, feeling his face heat up. The other boy, Wes, then turned to Kurt.

'And who are you?' It could have been taken as rude, except for the glint in Wes' eye that told Kurt he was acting the way he was to torture Blaine. Unfortunately that required second hand torture of Kurt.

'Kurt.' His blush deepened at the sound of his voice, that had to be at least a high f.

Blaine seemed to sense Kurt's discomfort. Truth be told the whole coffee shop could sense it. 'Kurt's my favorite bar tender.'

Wes raised an eyebrow. He may not see Blaine all that often since he moved to New York, but his high school friend was not one to have a favorite bar tender. However Rachel jumped in before any questions could be asked.

'Kurt, you never told me you worked the bar.'

'Oh, yeah.' Kurt nodded, as though that would cover up the lie. 'You know, when we're short of staff. And a little bit of extra cash is never a bad thing. So I help out when I can.'

Rachel looked as unconvinced as Wes, but at that moment the barista called out Blaine and Wes' orders. Kurt made a mental note to thank God if he ever did turn out to be real.

'Nice to meet you both.' Wes flashed them a dignified smile and turned around to grab his coffee.

'Yeah. It was really good to see you Kurt. Really good. And you too Rachel.' Something flickered behind Blaine's eyes before he too smiled and turned away.

When the two boys had made it out of earshot Rachel turned to Kurt and slapped him on the arm.

'Ow, Rach-'

'Oh my god, Kurt. He is so cute.' She practically screamed at him. Kurt simply blushed further.

'Oh my god.' Rachel's hands flew to her mouth. 'That's the boy! The other day, at lunch. That's him.'

Internally Kurt was cursing Ohio. Why did he come back? In what universe was this ever going to be a good idea? He remained silent as Rachel continued to talk at him, about how dreamy Blaine was, elaborate plans for how she would get them together. When they finally got their orders she was rehearsing the speech she would make at their wedding.

Thankfully Mercedes turned up not long after they sat down at a table in the back corner. Finn was another five minutes behind her. After all of Rachel's rehearsals the best greeting she could come up with was "hi". If Kurt didn't know how much potential their meeting up could have for tragedy he would have thought it funny.

As much as Kurt hated Ohio he had to admit it was good to see his friends again. It was difficult to believe it had been almost six months since they had seen each other. They left the coffee shop almost two hours later with plans to meet up again that night. Puck was having a party at his apartment, apparently the pool cleaning business was booming, and many of the New Directions were attending.

It had been a long time since Kurt had been to a party, so he figured why not. When in Lima…

* * *

><p>Kurt knew he was a little drunk. Okay, so maybe from the way he was grinding against Puck he was a lot drunk. But he was allowed to be, Kurt reasoned. He was back in Lima, trying to hide the fact he was a stripper and to top it off Blaine was in town. If he didn't deserve a drink after all that then he didn't know what he had to do. Speaking of Blaine…<p>

'Hey.' Kurt almost jumped out of his skin when he felt the warm breath against his ear. Then Puck was gone and there were a pair of arms around his waist and a body pressed to his back.

Kurt could smell the alcohol on Blaine's skin, and if that was any indication he was just as inebriated as Kurt. He tried to turn around but Blaine held him fast. Instead he settled for turning his head so he was speaking to Blaine's profile.

'In what way do you think this is at all appropriate?'

Blaine jumped back, releasing him immediately. His eyes were wide through he haze of alcohol, his expression horrified. Apparently he was not drunk enough to loose all his dapper. He took one step backwards then turned on his heel to flee. Kurt felt terrible as soon as it happened. He hadn't really meant it. After all he spent half his nights dreaming about Blaine being pressed against him in one way or another. Kurt watched Blaine retreat through the crowd, bumping into people and stumbling as he went. He noticed Blaine's friend, Wes, spot Blaine, look back at Kurt, then followed after his drunk friend.

Now Kurt knew he had really stepped in it. He hadn't known they would be here. He hadn't known Blaine would be in Ohio, let alone Puck's apartment. How does one prepare for a meeting such as this? Drink less, for one.

Making a quite decision, well as quick as his intoxicated mind would go, he followed the path Wes made to Blaine. Kurt found them in Puck's bedroom. Blaine was sitting on the bed, facing the far wall, Wes standing to his left. He could see Blaine's shoulders shaking and another wave of guilt washed over him.

'Um, hi?' Both heads turned around to face him. One sad and ashamed, the other confused and full of pity.

Wes scratched his elbow awkwardly, 'I suppose I'll just leave you guys to it.'

He threw Kurt a doubtful glance as he left, most likely wondering just what exactly Blaine's "favorite bartender" had done to cause such a reaction from Blaine.

Kurt had no idea what to say. Even he didn't know exactly why Blaine had reacted in such a way. He must have been standing there longer than he realized because Blaine spoke into the silence.

'I'm sorry.' His voice was soft and a little bit slurred.

Kurt took a few steps forward, stopping at the corner of the bed.

'It's okay. I-I didn't really mind.' The words sounded feeble even in his own mind.

Blaine shook his head, 'It's not just that, though.'

Kurt sat down next to Blaine, their shoulders nearly touching. He said nothing, unsure as to what Blaine was talking about.

'I've made this whole thing up in my head.' Blaine continued, 'I forget that its not like this for you. I feel like I've used you to fulfill my own fantasy.

A pang of pain radiated from Kurt's chest. Blaine thought this was just a job for him? That he was simply a whore who didn't care about him? Of course that was what he was supposed to think, but Kurt never really believed he did. And what was the fantasy? How was Blaine using him?

Kurt had no idea what to say. What words could he possibly use in this situation. Instead he grabbed Blaine's chin and turned his face towards his own. His eyes were glassy, from alcohol and something else, cheeks flushed. Without really thinking about what he was doing Kurt pressed his lips to Blaine's.

As he pulled back, Blaine leant forward, chasing the kiss. They stared at each other, letting the tension build before it snapped and they launched themselves at each other.

Blaine placed his hand on Kurt's cheek, fingers curling slightly around his neck. Kurt's hands wrapped themselves around Blaine's neck, pulling their bodies closer together, chests touching.

All Kurt could think of was how good Blaine tasted and how warm he was. The panic of being found out, everything he had worried over when he first saw Blaine in the Lima Bean was completely forgotten.

Kurt sucked on Blaine's bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth as he pulled back. His head was swimming. He could feel the alcohol and lust and emotion swirling around, fighting for dominance. It created heightened sensations, every one of Blaine's fingers could be felt digging into the hair on the back of his neck, his other hand burnt hot against Kurt's hip, his tongue pushed past his lips, warm, wet and sweet from whatever Blaine had been drinking.

Kurt had stopped thinking and was now just letting his body do whatever it pleased. He continued to kiss Blaine, tongues pressing together, tasting each other. Kurt leant into Blaine slightly, pushing him backwards. Blaine got the hint, shuffling up the bed and settling into the pile of pillows. Their teeth clicked as they tried to keep their mouths together.

Soon Kurt was settled between Blaine's legs, Blaine's hands having slipped into the back pockets of his jeans. Pulling away from Blaine only long enough to dip his head, Kurt kissed his way along Blaine's jaw, down his neck, feeling the slight scratch of stubble beneath his lips.

Blaine groaned as Kurt began to suck on his pulse point, tightening his grip on Kurt's ass and bring their hips colliding together. Both boys moaned at this, heat seemingly radiating from every point their bodies join.

'Shit, Kurt.' Blaine hands moved from the backs of Kurt's jeans, his fingers twisted in the hem on his shirt, rucking it up his chest. Kurt got the hint and sat up, undoing the top few buttons and pulling it over his head.

They quickly undressed each other. Fingers moving too fast, fumbling in a combination of lust and alcohol. All too soon Blaine had pulled Kurt's boxers down and he couldn't even get them over his ankles before they were rutting against each other.

Kurt let Blaine flip them over, surrendering himself to his every touch. He could feel warm breath on his neck as Blaine pushed his hips forward, their cocks sliding together between them.

Kurt could hear quick breaths and deep moans but was unsure who exactly was making them. All he knew was the heat and press of Blaine on top of him, the spikes of pleasure as they moved together.

Blaine grabbed Kurt's hand, twining their fingers together. Kurt opened his eyes, not even realizing they were closed, to find Blaine staring down at him. Again there were those intense hazel eyes. Kurt stretched his neck up to kiss Blaine, tongues meeting immediately.

Pressure was building low in his stomach, curling its way around his spine, spreading through his thighs and out to every extremity. It was becoming all too much.

'Blaine.'

'Kurt'

Blaine's hand reached down between them, taking them both in his palm. He began to stroke quickly, not really in any rhythm but it was enough.

'Oh god.'

Kurt opened his eyes again as Blaine stuttered against him, eyes closed, lips slightly parted. He continued to thrust up into Blaine's hand, working him through his orgasm until his own ripped through him.

* * *

><p>The last thing Blaine remembered was collapsing on top of Kurt after the second best orgasm of his life. After that he must have passed out, whether from the orgasm or the alcohol or both, he couldn't tell.<p>

The one thing he was absolutely sure of was that Kurt was here, in this stranger's bed, with him.

And now he was not.

* * *

><p><strong>Don't forget to come play with me on tumblr (miss-elliot). Sometime I give out sneak peaks. And I always give out love. <strong>


	6. Chapter 6

**This chapter comes with its very own theme song: Hammock- I Can See You. I would highly suggest looking it up (even though I know most of you won't because I know I never do when an author suggests it). If you do look it up I would also suggest playing Rainymood in the background. Both Hammock and Rainymood are my current obsession. As always let me know what you think and thank you times a million for reading.**

* * *

><p>Rachel woke up on the floor of Puck's living room spooning Brittany. She quickly looked around to make sure Santana wasn't in sight (she hadn't even been at the party, but she had a creepy sixth sense when it came to Britt and frankly Rachel will always be a little bit terrified of her) and stood up, stretching out her sore limbs.<p>

Seventy-five precent of the party was now passed on the floor, all still asleep. Sam was sitting upright on the end of the couch with Puck's head in his lap. Finn was starfished on the rug, his head under the coffee table. If he woke up too suddenly he was sure to end up with a concussion. Various other members of the New Directions plus a few people Rachel didn't know were all tangled together in combinations that could only have resulted from an alcohol-induced haze. Rachel, however, had carefully trained her body to wake up at six every morning regardless of whether she had only fallen asleep at three the morning of, and as such was up before anyone else.

Carefully she scanned the intertwined bodies for Kurt. He would kill her if she left without him. Mostly because she drove and there is no way in hell he would walk anywhere in his new boots. Or so she imagined.

Yet her friend was nowhere to be seen. Thinking back on last night, or at least the parts she could remember, she had seen him disappear into Puck's bedroom at one stage. She had also spotted that Blaine from New York, who was strangely familiar, and his friend talking to Puck.

With a sly grin she picked her way through the sleeping partygoers and made her way towards the bedroom. What she found was a single tan back, naked from what she could see. His eyes were open and staring at her from where his head was resting on the pillow. There was a dark, fresh bruise on his neck and his hair, which Rachel remembered being gelled down to within an inch of its life, was sticking out at all angles. But what she noticed most of all was his eyes. Blaine looked so inherently sad. She felt as though she were suffering second hand heartbreak.

Rachel knew Kurt had been here without any actual evidence of his presence. There were no clothes left behind, or not left on the pillow. Maybe the heartbroken boy in front of her was evidence enough.

'Sorry, I was just, uh, looking for someone.' Blaine didn't react when she spoke. 'But I guess they're not here.'

With one last look she left Blaine on the bed, now sure Kurt was not in Puck's apartment.

* * *

><p>'What did you do!' Being woken to the screech of Rachel Berry's voice was not the most pleasant way to start a day. Especially when sporting a hangover.<p>

It was barely seven am and Rachel had crashed her way into the spare bedroom of her dad's place where Kurt had collapsed once arriving home only hours ago.

'Rachel, I promise I will figure out what you are going on about. But first I need to, you know, wake up. Coffee?' Kurt rubbed at his eyes, trying to adjust to the daylight that crept in through the curtain.

'Fine.' With a flick of her hair Rachel stormed out of the room and took off downstairs. He could hear the clicking of her plastic heels as she went.

Kurt pulled on a pair of pyjama pants over his boxers, all that was left of last night's outfit since he had made it back to the Berry's spare room, and a soft cotton t-shirt over his head before heading downstairs. Normally he would have at least run a comb through his hair, but his need for coffee was too great and Rachel had already seen the mess that was currently residing atop his scalp.

Rachel was standing in front of the toaster, two mugs of coffee already sitting on the kitchen table. Kurt sat down just as the toast popped and Rachel put two slices on a plate for him before busying herself with removing various jams and vegan spreads from the cupboards. Neither of them spoke as they ate, the room filled only with the crunch of toast and sips of coffee. When they had finished Rachel took both hers and Kurt's plates and loaded them into the dishwasher, she then returned to her seat and raised her eyebrows at Kurt.

'What?' Kurt asked defensively. Except he knew exactly what she was talking about, or more accurately not talking about. When she woke up at Puck's this morning she would have gone looking for him and what she would have found instead was Blaine.

Kurt knew he hadn't done the right thing, though he wouldn't necessarily call it the wrong thing. He had known that since the moment Sebastian had handed him all that cash weeks ago. But last night was different. Last night there was no money involved, it was just _them_. Admittedly they had both been pretty drunk but Kurt had always believed alcohol brought out honesty in people, it removed the filter and only left the truth. And the truth was he and Blaine had had sex.

In the morning when the filter was replaced and the walls rebuilt Kurt realised just how big of a mistake he had made. This wasn't something he could keep doing, he couldn't become attached. As much as his heart ached for Blaine, he didn't want it. Relationships were messy, complicated and someone always got hurt, Kurt always got hurt. And so he did the cowardly thing and left. He ran, just as he had run from Lima, from his dreams, from everything in his past. He could only imagine what he had left behind.

'You know what.' Rachel was taking no prisoners this morning.

Kurt sighed, 'It was nothing.' Maybe if he dragged this on for long enough she wouldn't realise he wasn't actually giving her anything.

Rachel gave him a piercing look. Usually she was in his corner, they hadn't always gotten along but she had always been on his side. For her to turn on him was a big deal. Whatever she had seen, whatever he had left behind, must have been pretty bad.

'It didn't look like nothing.'

'We were drunk, okay? Tell me you didn't consider hooking up Finn last night.' He took a sip of his coffee, emptying the mug.

'This isn't about me, Kurt. This just isn't like you. You don't hook up and leave the poor boy. You haven't even- I mean you're- you know.' She was trying to say he was a virgin. Kurt rubbed a spot of coffee that a dripped onto the table until it disappeared. He didn't answer, he didn't feel like lying to her.

'Kurt, when did we stop talking about things?' Kurt looked up at the tone of Rachel's voice. She sounded…sad, for lack of a better word. 'We used to talk about everything.'

'Things change, Rach. I'm not who I was when I lived here.'

'I know. Sometimes I miss that Kurt.'

'Me, too.'

They both fell silent, contemplating the conversation. Of course the easy thing to do would be to tell each other they would make more time once back in New York. _We'll do weekly lunch dates. _But both knew that would never happen, they were close enough to not bother with the lie. Things had changed and that was the way life worked, as unfortunate as it was it would never be the same again. His father had once told him that once things change they never go back to the way they were. How right he was.

'So. What are you going to do?'

'Nothing.' He was going to go back to New York and his job and continue life as he had before Blaine. It was easy enough then, it would be easy enough now. It wasn't like he even really knew the boy, they didn't mean anything to each other.

'And what about Blaine?'

'Nothing.' With that Kurt left and went upstairs to take a shower. Rachel wasn't sure she had any more answers than she had at the start of the conversation.

* * *

><p>'Dammit, Blaine.' Wes whispered as he tripped over an unknown foot. He knew leaving Blaine alone last night was a bad idea. Whoever this Kurt was he was no good for Blaine, as if last night hadn't been evidence enough now he had gone missing.<p>

Wes had woken around eight, earlier than most of the other guests, except, he noted, for Kurt and his friend Rachel, who were nowhere to be seen. When Wes had gone looking for Blaine he had only found his bowtie tossed to the end of the bed where he had left him last night.

He wasn't so sure about New York, but in high school Blaine had always had a bad track record with boys. The GAP Attack would go down in Warbler history. Blaine was too kind hearted, he trusted too easily, he was just so damn friendly. But he couldn't express his emotions, unless through song, he fell hard and fast, the other usually having no idea and leaving him behind. And from the looks of things nothing had changed since Blaine had started college. Hanging around with Sebastian certainly wasn't going to help, in Wes' opinion.

Resigning himself to walking home (Blaine had driven) Wes pulled out his phone in an attempt to find his friend. Of course his call went straight through to voicemail. Blaine was prone to dramatics, he wasn't going to make this easy for him. Deciding to change routes and head straight to the Anderson house, this time Wes called a cab, not willing to walk over an hour to Blaine's.

When he arrived Mrs Anderson let him straight up to Blaine's room.

Wes could hear movement in the room and knocked lightly, 'Blaine?'

'What?' More shuffling and a muffled swear leaked under the door so Wes pushed it open.

Blaine's suitcase was open on his bed, half packed and looking like it had never been fully unpacked in the first place. A pile of what was one probably folded washing had fallen off the side of his bed and Blaine was now attempting to re-fold everything and place it back in his luggage.

'Going somewhere?' Wes sat down in Blaine's desk chair, noting the stony expression on his friends face, the way his eyebrows pulled in to indicate something was really wrong. Most people would see anger but Wes knew Blaine well enough to know it was pain and sadness.

'Home.' He was going to make Wes work for information.

'You are home, Blaine.' He said softly.

'No. I'm going to New York. Where I belong. Where there is school and I have friends and where I can just get lost and you'd never know.' Blaine threw a pair of underwear into his suitcase harshly where is landed with an unsatisfactory thud, hating that he gave away so much.

'Blaine…'

'Look, Wes, I thought it meant something but it didn't. That's okay. At least now I know. So now I just want to go back to my apartment in New York where there is a tub on Ben and Jerry's in my fridge and Sebastian will hand deliver me coffee because he is strangely obedient that way. Okay?'

Wes simply nodded, 'Okay.'

When Wes left the Anderson house after helping Blaine finish packing he immediately pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts for a number he was always meaning to delete but for once in his life was glad he hadn't.

* * *

><p>'Blaine, honey are you sure you have to go?' Blaine fidgeted a little as his mother fixed his collar, sometimes she forgot he was nineteen and lived on his own. It was her instinct to fuss over him, or maybe it was her obsession with perfection.<p>

'Yes, Mom. I told you I forgot that summer class was starting next week and I want to be back to prepare.' There was no summer class, but it was the perfect excuse. There is no way his father would argue if he was doing something to further his education and his mother pretty much let Blaine do what he wanted as long as it was within his fathers expectations.

'Okay then, dear, just don't work yourself too hard. Have a safe flight.' She laid her hands flat on his shoulders, apparently satisfied with his appearance. 'Make sure you call me when you land.'

'I will, Mom.' A cab pulled up in the street and Blaine pressed a kiss to Mrs Anderson's cheek. 'Love you.

And with that he was on his way back to New York.

With his bags checked in and his ticket in his hand Blaine was sitting in the departures lounge simply waiting when his phone rang. _Sebastian._

'Blainers!'

'Hi, Seb.' Blaine answered in a weary voice.

'Guess what?' When Blaine didn't answer Sebastian sighed, 'You're not going to guess are you? Fine. I'll just tell you. I'm coming to pick you up at the airport!' His best friends excitement was thinly veiled.

'Wes called you.' It wasn't a question.

'Uh,' Sebastian answered awkwardly, having just been caught out. He was a little bit disappointed in himself, he thought he was a better actor (liar) than that. 'Yeah, he did.'

Blaine sighed again.

'Look, he was just worried about you.' Though Sebastian would never use the words himself his tone told Blaine he felt the same way. Blaine hated that, he didn't want their sympathy.

'He shouldn't be.'

'Doesn't mean he isn't. So look,' Sebastian said, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction, 'I'm going to replace the ice cream I stole from your freezer, test out my ID at the new bottle shop around the corner from you apartment. Though the last time I took you out drinking didn't end so well, so maybe I should just buy extra ice cream…'

'Sebastian!' If Blaine didn't interrupt soon he was going to be on the receiving end of a tangent.

'Oh, yeah, right. And I'm going to meet you at the airport with coffee. Sound good? Wonderful. See you then.' He hung up without leaving Blaine room to argue.

'Yeah, see ya.' Blaine pressed 'end' on his phone just as his plane was called for boarding.

* * *

><p>Kurt spent the afternoon in the Berry's backyard, reading. It had been so long since he had just taken some time for himself and done nothing. At first he had been anxious and unable to just sit still, something in the back of his brain was telling him there were things to be done, he had somewhere to be, something to pay for. But as the afternoon wore on and the sun shone he relaxed on the blanket he had set out under the oak tree and lost himself within his reading. It was nice. He couldn't remember the last time something had been simply <em>nice<em>. Maybe he wouldn't kill Rachel for dragging him here.

He had just finished a chapter in his book, the sun was starting to set now, and the heat of the day had burned off, when a thought occurred to him. It was really more of a memory he supposed, but within the haze of the alcohol of the night before he couldn't be sure, everything was a bit of a blur as though pages had been torn out of his book, only leaving him with parts of scenes and his imagination to fill in the rest.

Kurt remembered the conversation he had with Blaine, there was something about what Blaine had said, something Kurt didn't quite understand. Blaine had said it _meant more to him_. Kurt hadn't questioned it at the time, thinking more of his own problems than what Blaine was actually saying. But now he had time to think about it he could see the deeper meaning. It had _meant_ something to Blaine.

All this time Kurt had imagined Blaine thinking of him only being a stripper and a prostitute, only good for one thing. But Blaine said it had meant something. What did that even mean? Was it just the alcohol making him emotional? No, Kurt told himself, it was more than that. As he recalled the look in Blaine's eyes he knew it was more than that.

And then there was something else Blaine had said, that he was just using Kurt "to fulfil his own fantasy". What the hell did that mean? Kurt didn't want to admit to himself that that was exactly what he had been doing with Blaine. Using him instead of the faceless boy of his dreams. The same one who took him on dates and who he bought flowers for. The boy he would have introduced to his parents...

That couldn't be what Blaine was doing, could it? Surely Blaine didn't think of him in that way, as someone he could spend time with. Kurt had spent the last few weeks convincing himself that Blaine didn't want to see him again, didn't want anything more than sex. But all this evidence kept suggesting otherwise. First there was the phone number, but Kurt could put that off to Blaine being polite. But last night… last night was something else.

Rachel's shrill voice broke through his reverie, calling him to dinner. He sighed, his mind suddenly feeling very heavy. Kurt packed up his blanket and book, turning down the corner of the page to mark his place, before washing up and joining the Berry's for dinner.

Later that night he lay in bed, eyes wide open and mind turning. He had never met a person who was as bigger mystery to him as Blaine Anderson. Maybe Blaine could be the one person who would see him as more than just his occupation.

* * *

><p>Sebastian met him at the airport with a cardboard cup of coffee in each hand, as promised. From the moment Blaine stepped off the plane he felt better, more at home. Even within the walls of the terminal it was so New York. No one looked anyone else in the eye; they kept their head down, rushing off to wherever they had to be, always off to something more important. Or coffee. Coffee kept the city that never sleeps running.<p>

Sebastian clapped him on the shoulder as he passed Blaine his coffee, 'Come on, B. Let's get you home.'

They didn't say much, only the occasional comment on the weather, Sebastian asked after Blaine's parents. The cab pulled up in front of Blaine's apartment building, he insisted on paying since Seb has brought the coffee (it wasn't really a fair trade off, but Blaine was used to that with Sebastian and it probably evened out in the end anyway). Blaine dumped his suitcase in his bedroom and collapsed on the couch without bothering to unpack. Sebastian sat up the other end with a tub of ice cream, two spoons and two bowls, not that he expected to use them but just in case. He handed Blaine a spoon and opened up the container, offering it to Blaine first. It was only after they had both licked their spoons clean Sebastian spoke.

'So, are you going to tell me what happened?'

Blaine dug another spoonful of ice cream, considering the question.

'Maybe.' Sebastian knew that was Blaine-code for "yes, I just have to work up the courage to actually say it out loud first". So he ate more ice cream and waited.

'Kurt was there.' Blaine said eventually.

'Porcelain?' Sebastian immediately regretted the use of Kurt's stage name when Blaine flinched.

'Yeah.'

'Okay.' Blaine's fragile state was starting to make a little more sense to him.

'I ran into him in this coffee shop and he was with this girl I swear I know from somewhere. And he looked so freaked out, so I lied about how I knew him.' The words were all starting to come in a rush now, as though once Blaine started talking he just couldn't stop. 'And then Wes took me to this party. You know how I get when I drink, and I drunk a lot. I did something stupid and I think I may have said some things.'

Blaine was breathing hard; his eyes had a slight panicked look. Sebastian held out the ice cream in front of Blaine, hoping the time it would take him to eat a spoonful would calm him down slightly.

'Blaine, its fine. So you said some things while you were drunk. He probably doesn't even remember. It's not like you two had sex.' And, shit was that the wrong thing to say.

Blaine's expression was so pained that Sebastian thought he was about to cry. He had his arms wrapped around his waist, holding himself together as though if he let go his emotions would spill over, as though he would physically and mentally fall apart.

'Shit, Blaine.'

'And then he left. I woke up and he was gone.' Before he even knew what was happening Blaine threw his spoon across the room, leaving a small dent in the plaster of the wall.

Sebastian had left people after, when they had been sleeping, he had also been left, but he had never cared and as far as he could tell neither had the people he slept with. Blaine wasn't that kind of guy, he _cared_, this had meant something to him.

He watched Blaine; shoulders now slumped in defeat after his outburst. He wasn't crying, he looked beyond that, he looked tired, like he had been putting up a front for way too long and it had simply become too much of an effort.

If Sebastian had been a hugging kind of guy he would of reached over and wrapped his friend in his arms, instead he offered up the ice cream and picked out a movie.

Hours later Blaine had fallen asleep on the couch, spoon still clutched in his hand, eyebrows scrunched in the middle. Sebastian pulled the pillow off his bed and placed it under his head so he wouldn't wake up with a sore neck. He draped a blanket over his waist, because although it was still fairly warm he knew Blaine liked to sleep with the weight of something wrapped around him. Triple checking to make sure Blaine was definitely asleep, Sebastian pressed a kiss to his hair and wandered off to the guest bedroom.

* * *

><p><strong>I have such a problem with line breaks in that I love and use them way to often. Sorry about that. <strong>


	7. Chapter 7

**I have many excuses, but I'm sure you don't want to hear them. Instead I leave you with an apology, a song* and a new chapter. Enjoy, let me know what you think and feel free to kick my ass for taking so long.**

***This chapter's theme is Seaside by The Kooks. **

* * *

><p>Blaine's apartment may not have been the pent house, but it wasn't small. Mr Anderson believed that for his son to gain the most from his education he must have an appropriate space to live whilst studying. When they had first given Blaine their New York apartment, the one Mr Anderson had previously used during business trips but otherwise stayed empty all year around, they had planed for the second bedroom to become a study for Blaine. However Mr and Mrs Anderson only had limited time, of course, and by the time the weekend they had allocated to help Blaine move was up they had not changed the spare room at all.<p>

At the time they had told Blaine they would find another weekend in their schedules and he would have his own study before the semester started. Sebastian dropped around the second weekend Blaine had been living there, and the room was never converted.

The rest of the apartment was fairly open-plan, with no walls separating the kitchen and large living area. Blaine had put a desk in the corner, but more often used his laptop in his lap, on the couch. The area was stylishly decorated -Mrs Anderson's influence- with an exposed brick wall and navy accents. It was usually kept fairly clean for a place with two boys living in it, and now was no exception. However usually Blaine kept the place neat, but now he barely left his room at all, leaving Sebastian to clean up after himself mostly out of guilt. He had tried leaving dishes in the sink in hopes of luring Blaine out to clean them up, but they had started to smell and he had no choice.

Sebastian had no idea what to do. He had thought that after the first night Blaine had been home from his trip to Ohio everything would be fine. They had talked, Blaine had gotten angry, there had been ice-cream and a movie, that should have fixed it right?

But it had been a week and he had only seen Blaine on the times he made a trip to the fridge, even those were rare. Sebastian knew he was just sulking, but he really should have gotten it out of his system by now. He had given Blaine his week and now it was time to do something about it.

'Blaine!' Sebastian knocked on Blaine's bedroom door.

'Sleeping.' Came the muffled reply.

'Blaine, its two in the afternoon. I know for a fact you hate naps, which is really weird but I let it slide. In any case, I know you're not asleep.'

'Asshole.'

Sebastian took that as an invitation, turning the brass doorknob and letting himself in.

Blaine was simply a mess of black curls poking out from under the covers, it looked like he hadn't touched his hair in days; things really were dire. Sebastian was right, he wasn't asleep, he could see the screen of Blaine's phone in front of his face, Temple Run on the screen. God, he was pathetic.

'God, you're pathetic.'

Blaine reached out blindly to slap Sebastian where he had settled on the bed next to the best-friend-shaped lump.

'We're going out.' He was determined to get Blaine out of this slump, not matter how much he protested.

'Noooo.' Blaine whined sounding like a petulant child.

'Yes. You're getting dressed and doing something to that god-awful hair and we're going to get coffee.'

'Can't you just bring me some?'

'Well, that would defeat the purpose of me getting you out of the apartment.'

'Why are you doing this?'

Sebastian sighed. Why was he doing this? Because he cared for Blaine, because it hurt him to see him in pain. Because maybe a very small part of him still felt a little guilty at having set this whole thing up in the first place.

'Because.'

Blaine grumbled and Sebastian heard the muffled scream of an avatar dying. 'Fine. Give me fifteen.'

'Make it twenty.' Sebastian said as he closed the door of Blaine's bedroom.

Forty-five minutes later they were sitting in the corner of their favourite coffee shop, chosen not for its beverages but for its equal distance between Blaine's apartment and campus. Though the coffee was quite good, too.

'See, isn't this nice?' asked Sebastian.

'Mmm, I suppose so.' Blaine would never admit Seb was right, his friend's ego was big enough as is. He was kinda glad to have washed is hair, and fresh air, well as fresh as you can get in the city, wasn't a bad thing.

Blaine looked around the café, filled mostly with students on their summer break, and sighed. He knew he had been acting childish by hiding in his room all week, but he needed time, he reasoned with himself. Blaine wouldn't go so far as to call it heartbreak, but the rejection hurt all the same, not one ever likes to know they're unwanted. It was time for him to move on, not in the sense of finding another guy, he didn't need anymore of that, but simply being, living, distancing himself from the whole scenario.

Blaine stared down at his coffee, picking at the lip of the plastic lid. Sebastian just sat opposite him, happy enough to just sit there and let Blaine think.

'Thank you.' It may have been a strange friendship, but Blaine was grateful for it. He would have been so lost without Sebastian, not just the last week, but the whole time he had been living in New York. Sometimes just a familiar face was comforting, even if they ate all your food.

Sebastian seemed to sense the sincerity of the moment, replying with a simple, 'You're welcome,' before he looked over Blaine's shoulders and his eyebrows pulled together just slightly. 'Hey, isn't that the girl from your art history class? The one with the notebook.'

Blaine turned around in his seat to find Kurt's friend Rachel turning away from the counter, coffee clutched in her hand. He couldn't believe he hadn't recognised her sooner, he had sat next to her for a whole semester after all. True, he hadn't noticed much beyond the sparkly notebook, but still.

'Shit.' Quickly Blaine turned around hoping she hadn't seen him.

'Blaine?'

'Shit.' Sebastian just looked at him half way between confused and amused.

Rachel appeared at his side, her eyes wide in an expression Blaine didn't quite understand. Surprise? No, it seemed more like excitement, if that was possible.

'Uh, hi Rachel.'

Always in his element when Blaine was most uncomfortable, Sebastian chose that moment to speak up, 'So Princess Sparkles has a name.'

This time it was easy to read the bewilderment on Rachel's features. 'What?'

'Um, I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but we have an art history class together.'

'Oh my god.' Rachel slapped a hand to her mouth, her eyes flickered between Sebastian and Blaine, processing the news. She removed her hand and said in a rush, 'Well, it was very nice to see you Blaine, but I really must go now. Goodbye.' And with that she left the shop with surprising speed for someone so small.

Sebastian swallowed his last sip and put his empty mug back on the table. 'That was weird.'

Blaine's eyes stayed on the door Rachel had exited from. Something about Rachel's reaction made him uneasy. He had no doubt that she would tell Kurt she had seen him. And what then? Did this change anything, or did it make no difference? After all it was unlikely he would have another class with Rachel next semester, they wouldn't see each other again, unless they bumped into each other on campus, or at the coffee shop again. How likely was that in a city of eight million people?

Blaine groaned and let his head fall down and bump lightly on the table.

'Oh no you don't.' Blaine felt a tugging on his hair and allowed Sebastian to lift his head. 'I've just managed to get you out of this slump; you're not going to slide back into it because of some girl. Since when did you care about girls anyway?'

'She's Kurt's friend.'

'Shit.'

'Mmmhm.' Blaine sat back in his chair, this time his head tipped backwards and he stared up at the roof. He could feel Sebastian's shoe tap against the side of his own boot. It was comforting, a steady rhythm of support letting Blaine know he would wait until he was ready.

Straightening up again, Blaine began his story. 'She was with him when I ran into him at home. It was actually in a coffee shop, funnily enough, the Lima Bean. I don't know why I didn't recognise her.' _It was because of Kurt, you didn't notice anything but Kurt. _'No doubt she will talk Kurt, tell him she saw us.'

'So?'

'So, now she is around. She comes here, she's on campus, she's around. And she is like this- this lifeline to Kurt, this constant little reminder he exists. I can avoid Richard's, I can avoid Porcelain. But how can I avoid accidentally seeing her. What if we share another class together?' Blaine's chest was tightening. He was getting over this, or so he had thought, and suddenly it was like he had been thrown back in the deep end.

Kurt had put this spell on him and he couldn't get away. He had heard people say you always remember your first love, but this wasn't even love, it was just a little taste and now he couldn't get it out of his mouth.

* * *

><p>'He's Dapper Prince.'<p>

'What? Rachel what are you talking about?' Kurt was sitting on his two-seater couch, hunched over the bank statements and bills that were spread out across his coffee table.

'You know, from my art history class? The one who looks like he models for Brookes Brothers? Dapper Prince, come on Kurt, you know.' He could hear the sound of traffic from her end of the call.

'Ah, yes, of course. From the elective class Tisch makes you take? I'm aware.'

'It's Blaine.' She hissed.

Kurt almost dropped the phone. 'What?'

'You heard me.' A horn blasted somewhere in the background, followed by a distorted shout.

'Are you seriously telling me, Rachel Berry, that the very handsome boy you have been sitting next to all semester is Blaine and you have only just figured this out?' Kurt threw his glasses down on the table and rubbed his eyes. He could feel the sweat forming along his hairline, there was no way he could afford air conditioning, his heater had broken during the winter and he couldn't even get that fixed, so he had to make do with the lazy breeze coming through the open window. It was too hot to do much of anything and he had been struggling to concentrate on the bills in front of him, but suddenly his attention was very much focused, even if not on the more pressing task of keeping his electricity going.

'Well he didn't have his hair gelled down in Ohio and I'm usually too busy with my studies to pay too much attention beyond the chiselled jaw and appealing complexion. Besides, it was quite clear he was gay so there was very little use in me paying any more attention.' He voice became clipped, clearly on the defensive.

'You call him Dapper Prince.' Kurt pointed out.

Rachel sighed, 'Well, he _is_ very dapper.'

'God, you're hopeless.' Kurt paused, taking a moment to fully take in the information he was being given. 'Why are you telling me this?'

Rachel took a sharp breath in, 'I'm not sure. The first thing I thought of was to tell you.'

'Rachel, I told you, nothing is going to happen with Blaine and I. We're just- we're not right for each other.' That hurt a little to say. Kurt had spent a lot of time thinking during his last week at the Berry's. He and Rachel had only got home the night before and he couldn't help but wonder where Blaine was, if he was back in the city, would he come back to Richard's? Because after all of his thinking he had come to the conclusion that maybe they weren't so wrong for each other, maybe if Blaine gave him a chance there could be something there. It was just getting Blaine to give him a chance that was the problem.

'Okay, okay, whatever you say. But just so you know I now know where he gets his coffee. I also know he attends NYU. So if you ever need me to drop in a good word…'

'Rachel!'

'Fine. I have to go anyway. Talk soon.' She hung up before he had a chance to reply.

Kurt tossed his phone onto the table in front of him, wincing when it's scattered along the surface and fell off the other side, taking several pieces of paper. Leaning back into the couch he ran a hand through his hair, knowing he would have to wash it again if he kept that up.

It would appear he was at a cross roads of sorts. After weeks of contemplation (how was it not months? Years?) he had to make a decision , there was no point in deny it, putting it off longer, he would only be stuck in limbo until he did.

So Kurt had two choices. Did he seek Blaine out, give him his heart and hope he survived? Or did he protect himself and forever wonder _what if_?

Kurt grumbled and let his body fall sideways along the couch, all thoughts of financials gone out the window. It looked as though he had a long night ahead of him.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry its a little short, but I figure it was better than nothing. <strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**No song for this one other than the cry of my frustration.**

* * *

><p>It took Kurt a whole fortnight to ask Rachel the name of the coffee shop. After returning to work he found himself distracted, he no longer found enjoyment in any of his performances, even when he was allowed to sing. It became a simple routine, a series of movements to music. And it showed at the end of the night when his tips were nearly half of what he used to make.<p>

He went home at the end of the first week and cursed Rachel for having told him she knew Blaine, cursed Blaine for ever having existed, cursed Blaine's meerkat friend for buying the dance, cursed his life for ending up here. In the morning it was made all the worse when he realised he was out of coffee and hadn't made the extra money in tips that allowed him to buy more.

'Rachel.' Kurt put on a cheery voice when she answered the phone after five rings, even though he was feeling anything but.

'Kurt! How good to hear from you.'

'Listen, I need to ask you something.'

'Yes, of course.' It was a Monday evening, so the club was closed. Kurt was trying to catch up on some housework but his mind kept wandering, always down the same path.

'Remember a couple of weeks ago, when, um, you ran into Blaine-'

'Oh my god!' Kurt was sure his ear would be ringing for hours after the screech Rachel had just let out. 'You want to know where it was don't you!'

'Well I-'

'But wait,' she interrupted, 'Don't you have his phone number?'

'Yes, but-'

'Well why don't you call him?'

'Rachel, will you just let me finish?' Kurt huffed. He may have been used to Rachel's need to be the constant centre of attention, and way of achieving that by talking constantly, but that didn't mean he liked it.

'Sorry.' She at least had the decency to sound a little sheepish.

'The last time I saw Blaine I left him alone after a drunken night with no note or explanation of any form. How do you think the conversation would go if I were to call him? "Hi, Blaine. I know I fucked you and left but I can't get you out of my head. How about a coffee?" I don't think so.' Kurt had already thought this through a thousand times. It had to look like an accident, that way they were on even ground, instead of Kurt bursting into Blaine's life via a phone call whether he wanted it or not.

'Things have changed since he gave me his number.' Kurt finished, unable to keep the slightest hint of sadness out of his voice.

'Okay, I see your point. But what's your plan? Just turn up there and hope he happens to be there too?'

'Yes?' This was the one part of his plan that Kurt couldn't figure out. He had no idea what Blaine's schedule was, he didn't even know if he went to that particular coffee shop regularly or if it was simply a one off. Kurt supposed that part would be left up to fate; he shuddered at the thought.

'Well, good luck with that Kurt. I wish you all the very best.' And with that she was gone. As soon as she hung up he realised that she had never actually told him the name. He was about to ring her back when his phone buzzed with a text message; it was the name and address of the coffee shop followed by a winky face.

Kurt felt a little shaken, and it wasn't just the usual residue of a conversation with Rachel Berry. He felt raw, a little open. It wasn't like him to put himself out there like this, it was a huge step for Kurt Hummel.

Despite this small discomfort he felt lighter. He finished off the housework he had started earlier, even daring to fiddle with the air conditioning unit, but unfortunately it was no better off by the time he went to bed, tired, falling asleep instantly. This time instead of haunting him he welcomed the sight of amber eyes.

* * *

><p>This time only two days passed before Kurt worked up his courage enough to take action. With the address of the cafe entered into his phone, Kurt made his way through the streets of the city. It wasn't too far from his apartment, and with the weather starting to cool off it was nice enough to walk. He hated taking the subway, too many people, so it was a welcome turn of events. Kurt took this as a good sign. The weather was nice, he was in a good mood, he had made enough tips last night for coffee. Surely only good things could come to him on a day like this. Right?<p>

Kurt found the place easily enough. It was quaint without being too small, and clearly did a good trade. There were a few people waiting for take away cups and a few more scattered around the mismatched tables that filled the place. It was mid morning and Kurt could see a few likely college students getting their caffeine hit. He studied their faces, unable to stop the small disappointment that filled his chest when none of them had dark, gelled down hair or those tawny eyes that haunted his dreams.

Deciding that the best course of action would be to hang around for a little bit, just because Blaine wasn't here now doesn't mean he wouldn't show up, Kurt ordered his non-fat mocha and chose a low table in the back corner. He could see the counter and the front door from his position. Having settled into his spot and taking a sip of his coffee (wow, it was actually really good) Kurt pulled his laptop from his satchel. He pulled up a series of bookmarked pages. They were all internships at various fashion magazines, positions at theatre companies, anything that caught his attention after hours of searching the Internet for job opportunities in New York. Kurt had no idea why he was applying to any of these places, he had no hope in hell. Just about all of the internships wouldn't give him a second look without a college education of some kind. But recently he had craved something more. If he wanted to read into it deeper he would have seen that his new found motivation started around the same time he met Blaine, but he chose to ignore that. Instead blaming his inspiration on the fact that he should have started his sophomore year at NYADA a week ago.

Kurt sat in that coffee shop for four hours. Two coffees, a green tea and countless applications later he closed his laptop, it only had ten minutes of battery life left and he was sure his body had even less. He shouldn't have been surprised that Blaine didn't show up. Was he really expecting for him to just appear? And what then? They would chat and laugh and ride off into the sunset to live happily ever after?

Kurt packed his things away with a sigh. Rachel had been right in her scepticism and that probably made the whole situation worse. No doubt she would ask how he went. He dreaded that conversation. And that left Kurt wondering, what next? Did he come back tomorrow, and the next day? Hope Blaine would "bump" into him at some point. Even then the future was uncertain.

No, Kurt had given fate its chance and it had failed. He had already been given too many opportunities to contact Blaine, to make something with him and he had passed them all up. Now this was his punishment, forever wondering "what if"? It hurt him, but it was a life he was now resigned to live.

* * *

><p>Rachel walked through the college campus as fast as her legs would carry her. It wasn't that she was in a hurry to get anywhere, she had finished all her classes for the day, she just always moved that way. What was the point in spending precious moments walking when there were scales to be sung, or lines to learn? Every minute not spent furthering her career was a minute wasted in Rachel's opinion.<p>

She was rearranging the books in her bag when she bumped into something solid. Thankfully she didn't drop anything but the impact made her stumble a little and two large hands reached out to grab her forearms, steadying her.

'Woah, where's the fire?' A smooth voice asked.

Rachel looked up from checking herself to be met with a familiar face.

'You're Blaine's friend?'

'Princess Sparkles, hey.' He gave her a very dazzling smile.

'It's Rachel.'

'Sebastian.' Seb let go of Rachel to offer her his hand in greeting.

She took it a little warily, this guy gave off a strange vibe and she wasn't exactly sure if she could trust him.

'Are you late for class or something?'

'Oh, no,' She brushed her bangs out of her eyes, 'I'm finished for the day.'

'Okay, then.' Sebastian gave her a curious glance. 'Look, I'm really sorry for running into you like that before. Let me buy you a coffee to make up for it?'

'Are you asking me out?' Rachel really didn't get this guys game.

Sebastian chucked. 'No. I'm gay. Really gay. Gay as Blaine.'

Rachel couldn't help but laugh a little at the last comment. She hesitated a little before nodding. 'Okay. Since you do owe me for almost knocking me down.'

'Very well, Miss-?'

'Berry.'

'Rachel Berry.' Sebastian mused. 'I like it. The name of a star.' And she was putty in his hands.

It only took them an hour to become friends. They both had an ego many would find repulsive, but for whatever reason it drew them together. Maybe it was the fact they both knew what the other wanted to hear and were able to provide that, or possibly that one was a diva and the other was a bitch and their personalities clashed in the most perfect way.

'So Blaine actually got the whole choir to sing in a GAP?'

Sebastian took a sip of his coffee, nodding.

'You should have seen the poor guy afterwards. Devastated.'

'I admire the pursuit of public performance, but even I find that bold. The possibility of public rejection is always a daunting one.'

'Well, Blaine has always been hopeless at romance.' Sebastian leaned forward in his chair, and placed his hands, palms pressed together, prayer style, under his chin. 'Speaking of. Rachel, I had an ulterior motive in asking you to have coffee with me today.'

'You want to talk about Kurt and Blaine?' She had been wanting to ask him what the deal with Blaine was since she took her first sip of peppermint tea.

'Yes. What's up with Kurt? Is he as hopeless as Blaine?'

'Even more so. Every day it's a different story. "Oh, I love Blaine." "There is no way we could be together." "What would I even say to him if he were to be at the coffee shop."'

'Coffee shop? What?'

Rachel clapped her hand over her mouth when she realized what she had said.

'No, it's nothing. Just, um, you know, Kurt, being hopeless.'

Sebastian gave a sly grin. 'Rachel, what about the coffee shop?

Rachel's eyes flick around the café behind Sebastian's head as though it holds the answer. 'It's nothing, really. He can't know I told you. Blaine definitely can not know anything about it!'

'Who said I was going to tell Blaine?'

After a moment of reluctance she sighed with defeat. 'Fine, I'll tell you about the coffee shop.'

So she told him how she had called Kurt after she had seen them at the cafe that day, and about Kurt's plan to stalk out the coffee shop because he couldn't call Blaine because of his own guilt.

Sebastian listened with rapt attention. Rachel had been too caught up in her own story telling to notice the cogs very obviously turning in his head, but when she started paying attention to the world again she caught his grin. She may have only really have been friends with him for less than two hours, but she knew that look. 'You have a plan.' It wasn't a question.

'I do.' He replied with a nod.

'You just can't tell Blaine. Kurt would kill me if he knew I told anyone else about this.'

'Of course I won't tell Blaine. I'm not stupid. He would work himself up into such a panic about the whole thing. No, neither of them can know about this.'

Rachel just watched him for a moment, before blurting out, 'Well? Are you going to tell me, or are just going to sit there grinning like an evil genius'

* * *

><p>When Sebastian came home smiling Blaine was suspicious. He had expected him home hours ago, but Seb rarely did what Blaine expected.<p>

'What's wrong with you?'

'Nothing is wrong, Blainers. I just had a very nice afternoon.'

'Okay.' Blaine was still suspicious.

'What? I can't just have a nice afternoon?' Sebastian dropped his bag in the doorway to his room, no doubt later he would trip over it and curse his own laziness the same way he did almost every day but he still left it there and flung his body down onto the couch.

'No. Usually you come in here bitching or bragging or something. It's never just a "nice afternoon".' Blaine closed the lid of his laptop and joined his best friend.

'I don't have to tell you everything. Sometimes I like a little mystery.'

'You're planning something. I can tell. I can always tell, Sebastian.'

'Think what you will, Blaine. You're getting nothing from me.'

Blaine just shook his head and stood up, making his way to the kitchen and opening the fridge. 'You've eaten all the food again, so you're the one who will be paying for take out.'

'Fine.' Sebastian smiled again, he couldn't wait to put his and Rachel's plan into action.

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you for reading and sticking around, even if it is a long time between drinks. <strong>


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